


My Name Is

by softwareinstability



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Connor makes Youtube videos, F/F, F/M, Hank isn't stupid, Jericrew - coffee shop crew, Josh makes the best suggestions, M/M, Markus makes art, North is the best boss, Romance, Slow Burn, a gropey asshole, a gropey asshole who doesn't listen, but might add a bonus chapter yet so..., chapter 6 tw for non-explicit mention of abuse, failed Gavin/Connor is Gavin being an asshole, i should probably rate it down, only rated m for gavin's attempt, see tw in chapter 3 summary, will leave it for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-11-18 23:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18128063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softwareinstability/pseuds/softwareinstability
Summary: "There is a way you can tell him without making his head explode," Josh said, suddenly. "I mean, you know he's following everything you paint. Can't you ask him out that way?""Oh, yeah, like a totally normal person," North muttered.





	1. My Name Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [become_a_deviant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/become_a_deviant/gifts).



North pushed a balled up apron into Markus' chest, raising an eyebrow until he took it from her. "I vouched for you, so don't mess up."

"How could I possibly? Look who I have as a mentor."

Behind him, Simon was quietly laughing. "Bad idea. All of this. I'm just saying."

"You can go and just say to the tables that need setting up, how about that?" North asked, and Markus turned his head to grin right back at Simon.

"See what you're getting yourself into, Markus? Fine, I'm going." 

"You," North said, looking at Markus again, "are going to learn how to make the best coffee Detroit has to offer. So pay attention."

"Yes, boss."

Half an hour later, Markus felt reasonably confident with the coffee machine, even if it still resembled something out of a science fiction movie. Simon flipped the sign on the front door over to open, and Markus braced himself because he could already see people waiting outside for their morning coffee fix. North was one side of him, and Markus knew she had an eye on him as he took his first order. She wouldn't let him screw up. 

The first hour of the day was manic, just as North had warned it would be. After that there seemed to be a lull, and Markus made it back into the kitchen for a quick break and to watch Josh at work, at least until Simon called him back out to the front.

"Heads up. Silver bear incoming."

"Silver what now?"

North nodded toward the window, where a guy with a frown and slightly shaggy silver hair was standing, apparently waiting for someone. Markus noticed her giving Simon a nudge, but didn't get the chance to ask what was so special about this guy before the door was opening and he was coming in, talking to someone else just behind him.

Markus couldn't help the sound that he made when saw who it was.

"That's-"

"The one and only."

"You _knew_?"

Simon grinned, unrepentant. "See, we told you this job would be fun. Straight up black coffee and the specialty tea of the day."

North and Simon both retreated, leaving Markus standing there to take the pair's order.

"-of course I watched it. Jeez, can we at least sit down first?" The guy seemed to notice Markus then, and made that 'hm, you're new' face that Markus had seen at least twenty times already that morning. "Coffee, black please. Connor?"

"What tea do you.. um." Connor seemed to stall, looking at Markus. Something else that had happened a lot, and which had everything to do with his eyes, Markus was sure. Connor cleared his throat. "Tea of the day?" he managed.

"We have a wild strawberry and hibiscus green tea blend, or an organic Assam today."

"Um, the second one sounds.. I'll have a cup of that please. Thank you."

Markus started to make the drinks, silently cursing North and Simon for leaving him alone out here. Connor was still watching him, he could feel it. _Say something._

"Aren't you that guy with the videos?" he asked. _Excellent choice, Markus. Really. You could have asked literally anything else._

Silver bear answered for him, though. "He's YouTube famous, aren't you Connor?"

"Is that right?"

"I'm not famous, Dad. Why do you tell everyone that?"

"You've got over ten thousand subscribers, dontcha? Seems pretty famous to me." 

"I've seen some of your videos," Markus offered. "They're good."

Connor blushed, and Markus almost over poured the coffee. Shit, he was even cuter in person. He was going to _murder_ North later. And Simon. He finished making the tea and put both drinks onto a tray. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Just those, thanks."

Markus handed over Hank's change and watched the pair retreat to a table near the far window as North and Simon finally came out of hiding, along with Josh. 

"So you knew?"

"They're in pretty much every morning, yeah," Simon admitted. "You don't think it's funny?"

"Funny?"

"You know, that you're the star of his last couple of videos and he doesn't have any idea."

"Will you keep your voice down?"

"Oh relax, Markus. Nobody can hear," North assured him.

"I hate you all," Markus muttered.

"What did I do?" Josh asked. "I was making muffins. Seriously, what?"

"Markus has a crush, did we not mention that part?" North asked, failing to look at all innocent. Markus glanced over at the pair by the window, but they were busy with their own conversation. He vaguely remembered the older guy, Connor's dad, from one of Connor's earlier videos, now that he thought about it. So he might have spent a few nights watching Connor's entire back catalogue on YouTube, when he'd discovered that Connor had made a whole video about one of his murals and he'd been intrigued. In part it was to do with how cute he was, but Connor's commentaries and insights had been fascinating as well, and Markus was hooked from the first video he'd watched.

Connor was animated at the moment, talking to his dad, nothing like he'd been when he'd ordered his tea. Markus kind of wished sometimes that his eyes were normal, that he didn't put people off the first time they saw him because of them. Most people, he corrected himself. North had told him the first time they'd met that his eyes were beautiful. Josh called them cool, and Simon confessed he really hadn't noticed at first.

"You like Connor?"

Markus sighed. "What are we, middle-schoolers?"

"That's a yes," North said. 

"Didn't he say that your art was-"

"Derivative, yes. I remember. Maybe he was right about that. But I've changed, my art's changed."

"Well, maybe it's time to get out there again and enlighten him," Josh suggested. "Maybe he hasn't seen your latest?"

"You guys can check that out later," North said, nodding towards the door. "We have customers on the way."

 

  


"That new guy makes a good cup of coffee," Hank said, holding the door for Connor. "Seemed nice, what was his name?"

"I forgot to ask." Connor fell into step beside Hank. "What time will you be home tonight?"

"I guess around eight."

"Really? Okay."

"Yeah, I'll bet it is."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You think I don't know why you want the house to yourself? I was young once too, Connor, I know the damn score. I'll call before I leave work, how's that suit you?"

Connor was blushing hard. Sometimes he hated how easily Hank could read him. Like asking about the guy in the coffee shop. _Markus_. Connor had read his name tag, but he wasn't going to tell Hank that. Nor was he going to mention that the shape of Markus' lips was now firmly implanted in his brain. Something to revisit later, after he'd had a nap. God, he needed a nap. 

A third mural by Detroit's newest - and most mysterious - street artist had appeared in the early hours of the morning and Connor had been out most of the night and stuck in his room for much of the morning making and editing a video about it. He'd actually liked this one better than the first two. It looked like the artist was finding his own feet instead of trying to emulate the work of others. 

Connor hadn't started out with the intention of making videos about Detroit's street art, but after noticing a growing amount of graffiti cropping up all over the city, he'd decided there was plenty of material there that very few others seemed to be utilizing. He hadn't expected many people to watch them, if he was honest. He'd cringed more often than not when watching his own videos back, but the views kept coming in, and most of the comments were positive. Not all of them, of course, and Hank had needed to tell him more than once to _ignore those dipshits, alright? They're just miserable assholes whose only joy is dragging people down to their level. Rise above it. Okay. I love you._

"-so I'm off next weekend. Did you want to do anything? Maybe we could go out somewhere, or you could go see your father."

Connor's eyes snapped up to look at Hank. "That man is _not_ my father."

"Alright, I'm sorry. He just called the other day, _again_. That's all. I'll tell him no, it's fine."

"He has no goddamn right," Connor growled, low. The fight drained out of him as quickly as it had come, though, and he sighed, sagging against Hank as he was hugged in, tight.

"I know." Hank pressed his cheek to the top of Connor's head, then slowly let go of him. "Go home. Get some sleep, alright?"

"Yeah." Connor nodded, looking up at the DPD's front doors. "Have a good day at work."

"We'll do something fun next weekend. That's a promise. See you later, Connor."

Connor watched Hank go inside, then turned back to head for the bus stop.

 

  


Markus dumped his bag just inside the door and shrugged off his jacket, retrieving his phone from one of the pockets before he put the jacket on a hook. The entire top floor of an old warehouse, his apartment was what North referred to as the definitive bachelor artist pad. He liked it because it didn't make him feel confined. He could breathe here, and there was room for all of his supplies. Room, and bare brick walls he could paint on, as many times as he wanted. Windows that ran the length of the outer wall, giving him a fantastic view of the city and all of its lights and life. 

He knew he was lucky. Carl had given him a lot, enough that Markus really didn't need to work. But when North had told him there was an opening at the coffee shop she and Simon both worked at, he'd jumped at the opportunity. Having this place to spend all of his time painting in was all well and good, but it could get lonely sometimes. The day's work had felt more honest, and he certainly hadn't been starved for company. He'd enjoyed it, even if his feet were killing him. 

He showered first, only bothering to pull on some underwear before dropping onto the couch. Tonight, he thought, called for takeout, so after ordering food he decided to work his way through the notifications on his phone that he'd been ignoring all day. 

Huh.

_ResonantKarma800 has uploaded a new video - watch now!_

He considered the small screen of his phone for a few seconds before pushing up off the couch to fetch his laptop instead. 

The thumbnail for the video was a shot of the thirty minute mural he'd painted the other night, and Markus sank a little further down into his seat when he saw it, embarrassed for reasons he couldn't fathom. 

"Hi, guys, Connor here and welcome to another episode of Decorated Detroit." Connor gave the camera a little wave, and that coupled with his ridiculously cute smile had Markus shifting around. _God, I'm in so much trouble._ "So this is number three by the artist known only as 'my name is'. Are we referencing nineties eminem here, or.. anyway, as you can see, this guy - or girl - seems to have found their stride. Let me just zoom in a bit so you guys can see the _detail_ in this piece. You might also notice that the colour palette's changed yet again, and as always I'm open to any and all discussion of what you think about this work, and what it might mean. It's what the comments are there for, folks. But let me give you my two cents first. So what do I see when I look at this? I see this one stroke that's bright, it's hopeful. It's like.. I don't know, it's like if you could see a shooting star in the middle of a storm. It feels isolated, too, like I want to ask whoever painted this if they're alright, really alright." Markus wondered what _that_ was supposed to mean, but Connor was continuing on.

"Hold on, I'm going to show you the really awesome thing about this strip of colour. It's not just like a straight up boring brush stroke. There's stuff going on here, and if anyone has ideas on how this was done in just one night, go ahead and let me know. Stencils, maybe?" Connor looked thoughtful, and Markus paused the video on a close-up of his face, blindly reaching for the sketchbook that he knew was somewhere on the coffee table. He moved the laptop off to his side and found a couple of pencils as well. 

Why did he have to look like he did? With that one lock of hair that never wanted to join the rest, and the deep brown eyes that might have made him appear one hundred per cent innocent if it weren't for that ring of amber fire right around each pupil.

Markus sighed, and hit play on the video again, listening to Connor's voice while he sketched. 

He stopped only to throw on some jeans after buzzing the delivery guy up, but he returned to his sketchbook once the food was paid for. The pizza was cold by the time he was done, but he ate a couple of slices anyway, skipping back through Connor's video to listen to him talking about how the artist seemed starved of something, and was searching for whatever was needed to feed that particular hunger. Markus wasn't sure how to feel about what he was saying. It wasn't as if he was wrong, but it was disquieting to hear it, to know from reading some of the comments that hundreds of people now had the same idea about him, that he was just sad and alone and aching to be _known._

 

  


Connor straightened his tie and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

"Connor, you done?"

"One second!" He ran a comb through his hair quickly, then opened the door so Hank could go in.

"What's with the fancy get-up?" Hank asked, pushing Sumo back from trying to follow him into the bathroom.

"Carl Manfred's coming by the gallery today."

"I don't think I've ever seen that guy in a tie," Hank commented. "Well, whatever. See you at lunch?"

"Hopefully. I don't know how long he's supposed to be staying, I don't think we're allowed to go on break while he's there."

"Why the hell not? He's just a guy, Connor."

"Just a guy? Dad, he's one of Detroit's greatest artists!"

Hank rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Call me later."

 

  


Carl Manfred was, Connor thought, a lot different than he'd expected. He was like a less cranky version of Hank, and he seemed to take a shine to Connor, who was showing him what they'd done with the paintings he'd donated, while trying not to completely lose his mind.

"Did you know that actually there's someone out there who painted a mural based on _Life in four shades?_ " Connor asked, as they stopped in front of said painting. "It's out at Royal Oak station if you're ever over that way. I think you'd like it. Imitation _is_ the sincerest form of flattery, as they say."

"Maybe I'll take a look," Carl said, seeming amused. "Do you paint, Connor?"

"Me?" Connor looked up at Carl's work on the wall, and shook his head. "It's not.. I don't think it's something I'd be good at. I can appreciate it well enough, it's always interesting to see how people interpret the world around them. But the most artistic thing I do is.. well." _Don't tell him about the videos, he probably doesn't care._ "I think my Dad still has a picture of our dog I drew stuck on the refrigerator." Connor wasn't going to mention that he'd drawn it when he was sixteen and had just arrived at Hank's place. "That may have been the last time I drew anything, and it's not even that good. I'm not particularly creative."

"I'm sure that can't be completely true. Everybody needs an outlet. I'm sure you'll find yours."

"Perhaps. So let me show you how we've displayed the 'family' series."

 

  


"Seriously, Josh. Do you put actual crack in these things?" Markus asked, taking another bite of the blueberry muffin he'd been given.

"Yes, Markus. Cocaine for everyone, that's how he rolls." Simon was laughing at the look on Josh's face.

"It's just a little lemon juice and home-made vanilla extract. Really, no big secret."

"They're amazing," Markus said, after swallowing.

"Speaking of secrets." Simon looked pointedly at North, who was perched on one of the stools the other side of the service counter. "Are you going to spill?"

"Spill what?" North asked, taking a delicate sip of her coffee.

"You were five minutes late this morning. I _know_ you didn't come home last night, _roomie_ , and those were the clothes you left the apartment in yesterday."

"So?"

"So obviously we're wondering."

"Oh." North smiled. "Then, yes. Satisfied?"

Simon let his head drop forward. "No. Why are we friends?"

"Aww. Because you complete me, sweetie."

All four of them looked up then as the door opened. "Speaking of.. Markus, you're up."

"Really?" _Really?_ When Connor was wearing a suit, and looked.. like that? "Thanks, friends," he muttered as Simon and Josh retreated.

North slipped off her stool as well and made herself busy at the far end of the counter, restocking the sugar packets even though there were plenty. Connor glanced her way, then smiled uncertainly at Markus.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?"

"Uh.. Could I get a black coffee and.. what flavour teas are on special today?"

"We've got a jasmine green tea, matcha, or vanilla almond black tea."

Connor looked up at the board behind Markus, as if that would help, and nodded. "The jasmine tea, please. And two tuna sandwiches?"

"Sure thing. Have a seat, I'll bring them over to you. Is your.. hm.."

"My Dad'll be here any minute."

"Okay. Great, I'll bring your drinks right over."

Connor seemed at a loss for a second, staring at Markus - right, the eyes - but then he just smiled. "Right. Thanks."

"I've got the tea," Simon told him, edging back up to his side once Connor had gone. "Josh is on the sandwiches. You okay there, man?"

"Fine." Markus grabbed a mug for the coffee, glanced over to see where Connor had sat. Something had just clicked in his brain. "He works at Wight's?"

"Assistant curator there, yeah."

"And you knew? You couldn't have maybe mentioned that fact?"

Simon lifted one shoulder. "What difference does it make? It's not like your dad knows you have a crush on him, is it?" Markus gave him a look. "Wait. You told him?"

"I showed him the first two videos Connor made about me." Carl had enjoyed Connor's enthusiasm, and had agreed that Markus really needed to showcase his own voice. _I know you have it in there, son, I've seen it_ , he'd said, and from Carl it had sounded more like encouragement than chastisement for trying to echo his work. "So I'm an idiot."

"You really think your dad would've said anything? Come on, Markus." Simon put the finished tea on the tray beside the coffee Markus had already poured. "Give him some credit. He's always let you find your own way when it comes to this stuff."

"I guess. I'd better.. before they get cold."

"Go get him, stud," North said softly as Markus passed her. She gave him a sunny smile when he grimaced, and turned to watch him go. Markus could hear her saying something to Simon about his ass, and could probably guess at what it was.

Connor was scribbling in a notebook when Markus reached the table, but he soon flipped it closed.

"The sandwiches'll just be another minute, but here are your drinks. Coffee's like molten lava anyway, so it'll still be hot if your.. uh, if your dad's running late."

"He just left the office, so he'll be here in a minute. For real this time," Connor added, with the hint of a smile. "Thanks, though. He, um, he works at the Detroit Police Department," Connor went on. "He's a detective there. A good one, too."

"Oh?" Markus asked, unloading the tray. "That's pretty neat. I mean, to have a cop for a dad. You must be proud of him." _Ugh, what are you doing? Stop saying weird stuff._

"I am, yeah."

"And you.. I couldn't help noticing, you work at Wight's? The gallery?"

Connor glanced down at his clothes, seeming to notice his name badge then. "Yes. The YouTube stuff is just a hobby." He cleared his throat. "I like art, I guess. It's not something I'm good at, but, well, I can appreciate it. There was a lot of it around when I was growing up, before.. Um." Connor sucked at his lip, and Markus found himself drawn to that flash of tooth, the slight tug on soft flesh. _Just go. You've done your job, you don't need to keep standing here making an idiot of yourself._ Maybe the way Connor had trailed off meant there was some story there, but he seemed uncomfortable, so Markus made like he hadn't noticed.

"It's good to have a job you enjoy," he said. "Simon will be over with your food, alright?"

"Oh." Was Markus imagining that bit of disappointment in his voice? "Alright. Thank you."

"Nice talking to you," Markus said, and the smile Connor gave him was worth it. He really was beautiful.

 

 

They were gathered around a table, most of the overhead lights were turned off and Josh had brought out what was left of the pastries for them to nibble at.

"I'm just saying, he's so into you he might as well have it tattooed on his forehead. It's adorable."

"I'm with North," Simon agreed. "He's never been that nervous with us, has he?"

Josh and North both shook their heads, grinning at Markus.

"Exactly. I feel like if I say anything about it, he might actually.. I don't know. Implode or something. There's something about him, though."

"Is it something tight? Round like a peach?" North asked, smirking.

"Funny."

"You're not denying it, so."

"There is a way you can tell him without making his head explode," Josh said, suddenly. "I mean, you know he's following everything you paint. Can't you ask him out that way?"

"Oh, yeah, like a totally normal person," North muttered.

"How do you mean?" Markus asked, and North sighed loudly.

"Why are men such idiots?"

"What, you don't think it's romantic?" Simon asked her, wiping croissant crumbs off the table into his palm.

" _You_ don't think it's dumb? What the hell's wrong with just asking him out? I honestly think he'd survive the trauma, I mean.. this is Markus. What guy wouldn't want to be asked out by this fine creature?"

Markus coughed, swallowing the mouthful of tea he'd just had. " _Creature?_ "

" _That's_ the part you focus on?"

Josh leaned forward. "I'm just saying, it's a gentler approach. He's obviously shy of you, Markus. You're not even all sure he's definitely gay-"

"Oh, trust me, he's gay," North insisted.

"Fine. Whatever. Think about it. It'd be like a love story for our time, don't you think?"

"I can't believe I'm the sensible one in this group," North said, getting up. "I'm going to go and finish up with the register. Will you guys be okay cleaning up out here, or do you need a few more minutes to talk about your feelings?"

Markus laughed, wincing as Simon aimed a balled up napkin at North's back, and got up himself. "We're on it, boss." He didn't say anything else about Josh's idea, but he was definitely starting to think about it. Maybe there was something to it. And it might be easier to communicate with Connor without his friends for an audience, or Connor's dad sitting there listening to him.

It was worth considering.

  



	2. Surprise Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tonight I'm out at Miller's Junkyard, and it looks as though our latest mystery artist has been at it again." Connor looked into the camera then, his brows furrowed over curious brown eyes. "Are you ever going to tell us what your name is?" he asked. "I guess time will tell. So, wow. Look at this place. I don't think housekeeping's been in for a while."

Connor was half asleep, his right hand buried in Sumo's fur, when Hank woke him up with a yell from the kitchen. "I brought dinner!"

At that word, Sumo quickly jumped down and was gone, leaving Connor to drag himself off his bed. He pulled on a t-shirt and wandered towards where Hank was banging around still. "Did you have that dog up on your bed again?"

"No?"

"You know when I was born, kid, and it wasn't yesterday, alright? I got us burritos since it's Thursday. If you want any of that green shit to go with them, get it yourself."

"Salad," Connor mumbled, opening the fridge. 

"Were you out again last night?" Hank asked, stopping to look at him properly. "Connor, you know we talked about this. You've gotta save that kinda thing for the weekend. You've got a great job. Don't risk getting fired 'cause you can't stay awake-"

" _Dad._ I'm fine. It was just one night."

"It's still gonna be there on Saturday," Hank told him, leaning past him to take a soda from the fridge. He gave it a distasteful glare, and went on. "There's a shit-ton of graffiti out there, what makes this new guy so special you have to go out on a school night, huh?"

"You saw the last video."

"You sent me that at six in the morning, Connor. I was barely conscious."

"You said you watched it!"

"And I did," Hank said, opening his beer. "I don't need to remember every detail to know you did a great job. You always do."

Connor rolled his eyes, taking out the salad he had leftover from the previous night. 

"So?" Hank prompted, as they sat.

"I don't know what it is, alright? I just know that the last couple of pieces they've painted have been pretty amazing. There's a lot there. A lot they're trying to say. About themselves, I think, but I guess it's also about how they fit into the world. I.. I don't know, Dad. I just feel this connection with it, like maybe we have similar stories. I know it's dumb.."

Hank was watching him, and the scrutiny made Connor duck his head down. He stared at his burrito, managing not to flinch when Hank put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Nothing you do has ever been dumb, son. Don't you ever let anybody tell you otherwise."

Connor nodded, a lump in his throat. He picked up his fork and prodded at his salad. Hank left his hand where it was for a moment longer, then started in on his own food.

"Hey, how about we go to Jericho for lunch again tomorrow?"

Connor groaned. He was starting to wish he'd never told Hank about the place, all those weeks ago. And since the new guy had started, Hank hadn't stopped mentioning him. _Markus._ With the most insanely gorgeous eyes Connor had ever seen on a human being.

"What? You could just tell him, you know."

"You honestly think that sounds like something I'd do?"

Hank gave Connor a _look_. "How will you know you can't if you don't try? Just like making those videos, right? You thought that was gonna fail when you started."

" _Because_ , Dad. He's like.. ten miles out of my league. Ten _thousand_ miles. Can we just drop it about him, please?"

"Okay, okay. But I may have to revisit my earlier statement, because that?" Hank pointed his fork at Connor. "What you just said right there, that was not the smartest thing to come out of your mouth."

"What, asking you to drop something?"

  


  


_ResonantKarma800 has uploaded a new video - watch now!_

Markus had been avoiding the notification since it had appeared right after he'd got home. He'd gone out for a couple of drinks after work with Simon and Josh - North already had plans, she'd said, and it became obvious what they were when she'd flipped Simon off for saying 'sure, see you in the morning, roomie' - so it was nearing eleven when he finally kicked off his shoes. He'd seen the alert flashing on his phone, but decided that a shower was higher on his current list of priorities.

Tomorrow, he promised himself, he'd get an early night. Even if it was a Friday. Last night he'd been out late with his paints, leaving something new for Connor to find. Something he'd spent every spare moment of the previous day at work sketching out, planning everything before he'd painted - with a little help from Simon, who was always up for what he referred to as 'escapades.' It was maybe a little rough around the edges, but he'd been okay with that. It was, after all, the first visual flirt he'd ever painted, so he could be forgiven if he was stuttering with it. Right? 

By eleven fifteen he was sitting in bed, laptop on his knees and Connor's new video ready to play. 

"Hi, guys, Connor here and welcome to another episode of Decorated Detroit." Markus found himself grinning at Connor's little smile and wave, and shook his head. 

"Tonight I'm out at Miller's Junkyard, and it looks as though our latest mystery artist has been at it again." Connor looked into the camera then, his brows furrowed over curious brown eyes. "Are you ever going to tell us what your name is?" he asked. "I guess time will tell. So, wow. Look at this place. I don't think housekeeping's been in for a while."

Markus laughed at the joke, at the awfulness of it as well as the humour in Connor's voice. Even _he_ knew it was bad, that much was obvious from the soft tinge of pink rising to his cheeks. Markus watched as Connor panned over the Junkyard, zooming in on all the strange, broken things he could see. _Huh._ The Junkyard had seemed like the perfect place at the time, but now he was worried it was going to confuse the message too much. Markus knew what it meant to _him_ , but since nobody knew who he was, it wouldn't mean anything to them. _Too late now._

"Okay, so there concludes your tour, and if anyone's sitting at home thinking _wow, that looks kind of creepy_ , I can assure you you're correct. It is extremely creepy, especially at.." Connor glanced down at something off-camera. "Almost three a.m. Honestly, some of those old lamps and microwaves look as though they might come alive any second." Connor shook his head, as if ridding himself of those thoughts, and panned the camera up towards the back wall of the Yard's office. "Alright, so.. Finally, the reason I'm here and you're watching."

Markus paused the video for a second, something nagging at him. Connor had made this only an hour or so after Markus had finished painting?

_How the hell did he find out about it so fast?_

He opened Connor's previous video in a fresh tab, scrolling down through some of the comments, not too sure what he was looking for. He didn't recognise any of the usernames there, and there was nothing about the Junkyard, but.. _Someone_ had to be telling Connor something. Either someone knew what he was doing and was following him, or-

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and almost punched in the text to Simon. **YOU RAT.**

Simon called him ten seconds later.

"What the fuck, Markus? What did I do?" He sounded out of breath. 

"What _were_ you doing?"

"Getting a pretty amazing blow job, thanks for asking. Still am-"

Markus heard laughter, low, and almost ended the call right there in his embarrassment.

"Wait, is this what the text was about?" Simon asked.

"What? No.. It's about Connor."

Simon groaned, loudly. "Okay, _that_ can wait until morning. See you-"

"Did you tell him?"

"Tell him what?" Simon asked, obvious impatience creeping into his voice.

"Where to find it!"

There was quiet for a minute, just the soft sound of Simon's rapid breathing.

"I may have sent him a message, yes. Can we _please_ talk about this tomorrow?"

"Simon, I-"

Markus was cut off, and stared at his phone as if it was somehow responsible. "Dammit, Simon." He wasn't sure why it mattered, except that if Simon was telling Connor where to find his work, what else had he been saying? 

The video was still paused, the image just a blur of movement because Connor had been walking. Markus put his phone to one side and hit play again, a weird tightness settling in his chest.

Connor focused on the tag that Markus had decided to sign his works with first, then zoomed out to show the rest of the piece. The image was all light and shadows; he'd painted a single streetlight illuminating the scene at the centre of it - a table with two chairs, one of them occupied by a dark, faceless figure. The other chair had a bright lavender-coloured rose resting on its seat. Connor pointed out all of these details, commenting again on how lonely it felt, then got closer still.

"So I hope you guys can see this, the light's not all that great out here.. This figure, I don't know. Feels familiar, does that even make sense? Like, I'm sure I'm not the only one who can relate to whoever this is supposed to be. Why the rose?" Connor zoomed in closer on that next. "Please, if anyone has any ideas about what the rose means, you know where the comments go."

_Okay. Maybe you were too abstract with it. Maybe North was right._

Realising the video had been posted some hours ago, Markus paused and scrolled down to take a look at the comments beneath it. Some way down, someone named CosmicxPenguinx33 had commented _the rose is for love at first sight!! omg MNI must be in love!_ Instantly, Markus felt heat flood his face. 

Another comment in reply to that one read _haha, probs in <3 with u. ur so hot <3_

Markus gave up reading after the fourth thirsty comment in reply to _that_ one, and scrolled back up to the video. Maybe he should have picked a more subtle colour. It wasn't like he was really in love, after all. He didn't even know Connor all that well outside of the videos he'd posted. All he really knew was that Connor was bright, gorgeous and incredibly funny in this sweet, self-conscious way. 

"Is this you?" Connor was asking, when Markus hit play again. "Maybe it is. Wow, I wish you'd painted a name tag on yourself.. I'm kidding. I really like this light again. It keeps making me think of the last piece, how it's isolated but still there are parts of it that are bright with.. I don't know. Hope? It's a pretty romantic image as well, like something you'd see on a Parisian street corner. I know I complained about how dark it is, but I don't think this would work as well in daylight? This is so different, so _beautiful._ " Connor looked right at the camera again, as though he was staring into Markus' eyes. "Who are you?"

  


  


"Wait. Dad, before we go in, can I.. Can you just not say anything to him? Please?"

"I wasn't goin' to," Hank protested. "You really think I'd do that to you?"

Connor frowned, then shook his head. "Alright, I guess not. Just.. I don't know."

"You can at least talk to him though, right? You don't have to ask him out," Hank said, already placating. "Just make some conversation. Stay, after I've gone back to work. Order a second cup of that hideous crap you drink-"

"Tea? What's hideous about tea?"

"Tea's fine, it's just all that weird strawberry and liquorice shit they put in it. It ain't natural, Connor."

"I like it," Connor said, almost primly, finally pushing open the door. He glanced towards the counter and saw Markus standing there, looking his way. Felt the tips of his ears turn red, and he might have turned right around except that Hank was behind him, ushering him inside.

"I'll grab us a table. Coffee and whatever sounds good to eat, alright?" Hank said, moving off already and leaving Connor to order for them.

Markus was smiling at him now, and Connor's legs went a little weak. 

"Hi there. Today's special teas are Japanese Sencha and a Himalayan white," Markus said, before Connor had even opened his mouth. _Oh._ Was he that predictable already? And did Markus think that was a bad thing? Connor couldn't tell.

"Uh. I'll.. which do you think?"

"Try the Sencha. Got a little sweetness to it, and I think Friday calls for something sweet." Markus nodded towards Connor's smart shirt - no tie today, at least. "Especially if you're just done with work for the week?"

"Oh. Yeah, I am. I always finish early Friday. My.. um, my dad's got to go back to the office, but.. yeah." Connor chewed his lip, trying to keep any more awkwardness inside his mouth where it belonged. 

"It must be nice though, to have that to look forward to at the end of the week. Sunday's going to be my only day off. I don't mind, though. But I've only been here a week, so I guess we'll see. So, okay, one Sencha, one black coffee. Anything else today? The white chocolate and raspberry cookies are pretty good."

Connor knew he looked a bit like a rabbit in headlights. Why was Markus being so chatty? Had his dad been here already and said something to him? He turned to look, finding Hank at their usual table, but he was busy flipping through the paper he'd brought with him, not even looking in their direction. Markus was still watching him closely when he turned back, and that colour spread down from his ears. 

"Um, I'll take two of the chicken and roasted veg wraps please?"

"Sure thing."

  


  


Markus was doodling on the order pad when Simon seemed to appear beside him. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. You're still an ass."

"I'm not and you know it. He could've gone weeks without seeing it. I'm just speeding up the process."

"Well, thanks for at least giving me time to get home before he showed up."

Simon grinned. "Maybe next time you should stick around and watch Decorated Detroit live and in person."

"That's a really dumb idea," Josh said, from behind him. "What if he gets caught?"

"That'd speed things up even more," Simon replied, looking almost smug. "Which apparently needs to happen, because you're the only one here right now who's not getting any."

"That isn't what it's about," Markus protested. 

"Hold on, Si, what?" North asked. "Since when are you getting any action besides your right hand?"

Josh laughed at that question, heading back into the kitchen.

"Since none of your business, when I still don't even know who it is you're dating."

"Ugh, fine. Be that way. Hey, what's that you're drawing?" North had turned, and was now peeking over Markus' shoulder at the pad he'd been steadily defacing. She looked at the sketch, then across to where Connor was sat. "That's actually really good."

"Thanks?"

"Why don't you give it to him?"

Markus turned his head to stare at her. "Uh.. Why don't I not do that instead?"

"But look. You've got the perfect opportunity." She nodded back towards Connor and Markus looked to see that Silver Bear was leaving. Connor, however, remained in his seat, still nibbling at the cookie he'd ordered after finishing the wrap. "Go and see if he'd like another tea. Don't make me pull rank on you."

With a resigned sigh, Markus pocketed the small pad in case either of them got any ideas, and wandered out from behind the counter, crossing to Connor's table. He looked up, seeming surprised to see Markus there, and swallowed.

"It's okay if I stay here a little while, isn't it? My dad had to go back to work, but-"

Markus blinked, confused. Did he really look that imposing? "Yeah, of course it is. I didn't come over here to kick you out, don't.. It's fine. Honestly. I was just wondering if you'd like another tea?"

"Oh." Connor touched his empty cup, and nodded.

_God, that blush was adorable._

"The same again, or something different?"

After a moment's hesitation, and without making eye contact, Connor replied, "surprise me?"

"Right. Sure, I can do that. Mind if I clear these?" Markus gestured to the empty plates and cups.

"Oh.. no, no, go ahead. Thank you."

He stacked the plates, hooked his finger through the cup handles and carried everything back with him. He could feel Connor watching him, and wondered what was going through his head. 

"Well?" North wanted to know, as soon as Markus was back behind the counter.

"He wants me to surprise him."

Simon, busy fixing a latte for another customer, let out a short laugh. "I can think of ten different ways you could do _that_ ," he said.

"I'm sure you can," Markus muttered, lifting down one of the large tea-cups. He scanned the jars of tea that lined two long shelves, and selected a full-bodied black tea that had a sweet, malty taste - one he was sure Connor would enjoy.

"Maybe you should take your break when the tea's ready," North suggested.

"I'm not asking him out," Markus said. "Not yet."

"Did I say you had to? Go sit with him. Talk. I'm sure he'd enjoy the company."

"You're all insufferable today, did you know that?"

Connor did a hilarious double-take when Markus took him his tea, then sat in the empty seat opposite him. Their knees knocked together under the table, and Connor immediately apologised, shifting slightly.

"No problem," Markus assured him. "It's okay if I sit with you, isn't it? I'm on my break, and my friends are all being complete assholes today, so I figured it'd be nice to talk to someone who isn't."

"Are they? They.. How come?"

"Oh, you know. Friends being friends." Markus grinned, stuffing his hand in his apron pocket to feel the pad there. "I saw you put a new video up last night."

"Right. Yes, there's another new work by my name is. Well, I guess people call him MNI, but.. it's different. The art, I mean. What I mean is, you can tell right away it's definitely his work, it's just there's something new about it again. I don't know how to explain it."

"How do you know it's a guy?" Markus asked. "And are you going to try that tea?"

Connor looked down at the cup as if he'd noticed it for the first time, and obediently took a careful sip. His eyes closed for one brief, beautiful second, and Markus filed that look away for future reference. The freckles across his nose and along his cheekbones, the long lashes that would marry well to the phrase _kissably soft_ , and that blush that seemed to be a built-in response to anything Markus said.

"That's.. really nice tea. Hank - um.. my dad, he doesn't understand how I like it." Connor seemed to deflate at his verbal slip, and his eyes seemed to plead with Markus not to notice it, so he didn't mention it. He'd sort of guessed that Hank probably wasn't Connor's biological father - maybe he could just recognise it easier because he had the same story. 

"I'm glad I chose well," was all Markus said.

"Anyway, you're right. I don't _know_ the artist's gender. It's just a feeling I have, I guess?"

"Hm. So can I ask something? What was it that got you interested in art, exactly? You mentioned before there was a lot of it around when you were younger.. it's funny, really. I could say the same thing, I've been surrounded by it for years too. I guess that's why I enjoy watching your videos."

"I think I just appreciate that everyone looks at the world in a different way," Connor replied, thoughtful. Markus noticed he avoided the part about his youth, and decided not to press. Obviously there was a reason, and it was probably something to do with why he called Silver Bear - _Hank_ \- his dad now. He listened attentively as Connor went on, finally seeming to loosen up into the more animated version of himself Markus had only previously seen from afar.

  


  


Connor tried not to let his disappointment show when Markus said his fifteen minutes were up and he had to get back to work.

"It was really nice chatting with you, Connor."

"You too. Um, I won't be in tomorrow. Dad isn't at work, I think he wants to do something.." Connor shrugged, wondering what exactly he was trying to achieve. 

"I'm sure I'll see you again soon," Markus said, in a way that made Connor's heart do an embarrassing flutter that he was _certain_ was somehow outwardly noticeable. "And I'll watch out for your next video."

"Oh. Sure, of course. Well.. thanks for the tea." Connor started to take out his wallet to pay for the extra cup, but Markus gestured that he should put it away again.

"On me. I'm glad I made a good choice. 'bye Connor."

"You don't.. okay. Thanks." Connor sighed, watching Markus go. _God._ The way his jeans hugged his ass really wasn't fair. Swallowing, Connor gathered his things and got up, knowing that he needed to get home and see to Sumo. Start preparing something for dinner, maybe go through some of the comments on the last video. It still surprised him how many of the people who subscribed to him seemed to want nothing more than to get into his pants. He never responded to those comments - just reading them was torture enough.

He took the bus home, glad to get in the front door as it had just started to rain. Sumo bounded out to greet him, big paws and slobbery licks, and Connor took it happily for a few minutes before he told the dog to get down. "Love you too, you big goof," he said, following Sumo into the kitchen. "What should we make Dad for dinner, huh? There's probably time to roast a chicken, think he'd like that? I know you would.."

He carried on talking to Sumo as he washed his hands and started taking things out to prepare for dinner. The dog listened intently to him mooning on about Markus, for maybe ten minutes before Connor noticed he was snoring.

"Yeah, you're probably right. He was just being polite because I was the only person there who was alone at that point. It was nice though. He listened, like.. like he cared. And I know people watch my videos and most of them like hearing what I have to say, but it's not really the same. I can't see them, can I?"

Sumo snuffled, flopping over onto his side, paw twitching.

"Okay. Be a good boy, don't eat any of this stuff while I'm in the shower."

  


  


Sunday morning came, and it was _still_ raining. Markus cradled a cup of coffee in his hands, sitting on the wide ledge by one of the large windows of his apartment, his shoulder against the glass. His thoughts turned to Connor, and what he might be doing right now. Still sleeping? Out walking the dog he'd briefly mentioned during their last chat? He probably wasn't putting together another video, Markus figured. It had been too wet of a weekend for anything much, and painting anywhere other than inside his apartment had definitely been off the cards.

He'd spent a little time when he'd got home from work the previous evening with a sketchbook and pencils, planning out what he could paint next. _Less subtle_ , North had told him when he'd mentioned it, and he'd kept being drawn back to the rough sketch he'd made of Connor at Jericho. Would that be going too far in the other direction? He had the piece mapped out, it was possibly abstract enough not to be instantly recognisable as a portrait of Connor, but a part of him wanted to correct that. He wanted Connor to know how beautiful he was. To see what Markus saw.

He decided to take the sketchbook with him and go to visit his dad, hoping he'd have some good advice. He'd probably tell Markus the same thing as North had - _just ask him out already!_ Thing was, Markus wasn't sure he could do that until he'd come clean to Connor about his art, and he wasn't quite ready to do that yet.

Carl was up and eating a late breakfast when Markus arrived. He looked well-rested, and gave Markus a quick hug from his chair before going back to his bacon and eggs.

"Have you eaten?"

"I got something on the way over." Markus took a seat at the table, smiling. "I'm glad he's taking good care of you."

"Paul? Sure, he's a good kid," Carl agreed. "Not as good of a cook as you were, but-"

" _Dad._ Take off those rosy glasses for a minute and remember I once burnt an _egg._ "

"You got better," Carl huffed, but Markus could see he was amused at the memory. "Something you want me to look at?" Carl nodded towards the sketchbook Markus had put down on the table.

"It can wait til you're done. How's everything going at Wight's?"

Carl grinned at his breakfast. "Your asking me that has nothing to do with that boy who works there, I'm sure."

"I had no idea he worked there. Or that he's a regular at Jericho."

"Sounds like the universe is trying to tell you something, doesn't it?"

Markus eyed his dad with some suspicion. "Did _you_ know he worked there? Before you decided on that particular gallery?"

Carl shrugged, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. 

Markus let go of a loud sigh. "I knew it was a bad idea bringing my friends over here. You're all conspiring, aren't you?"

"You were the one who brought up his videos, remember? He seems like a polite, thoughtful young man. And.. well, we could all tell you think he's cute."

Markus groaned, covering his face with his hands for a second. 

"I assume you've spoken to him by now," Carl went on.

"Yes, of course. And he's.. I don't know. Kind of perfect."

"Nobody's _perfect,_ Markus."

"I said kind of."

Carl waved at the sketchbook again. "Let me look."

With a sigh, Markus opened the book up to what he'd been working on and passed it across the table.

"Where are you planning to paint?" Carl asked, not missing a beat. "Somewhere a little more romantic than a junkyard?"

"You saw that?" 

"Of course I did. I appreciate the meaning behind it, but you've come a long way in the last few years. You're stronger than you were, Markus."

"Thanks to you." Markus reached across, squeezing Carl's hand lightly, briefly. "I kind of wondered if North would let me paint on the back wall of Jericho. I know technically the place belongs to her parents, but she's the boss."

"Ask her. I imagine she'd say yes, if you're sure."

"It's about him, it's about how seeing him makes me feel. I think Jericho's the right place for that."

Carl nodded, giving Markus a fond look. "Alright. By the way, I had the piano tuned last week.."

Markus laughed. "Nice segue, dad. Yes, I'll play for you. I'll go get us some coffee first, though."

  


  


Hank had persuaded Connor out of the house to go to a barbecue that Captain Fowler was hosting. Connor didn't know why anyone would have a barbecue when it was raining, but everything was under cover so he supposed it didn't matter. He hadn't really wanted to come, but the rain had kept them from doing much all day Saturday and Hank had wanted to get them both out of the house, so.. here he was. Nursing a beer to death and trying to blend into the walls as much as possible so that people would stop talking to him.

"Hi.. Connor, right? Anderson's boy?"

It wasn't a plan that was working very well.

"Yes. Detective.. Reed?"

"Gavin. Are you drinking that beer?"

"Not really," Connor admitted. He looked down at the bottle, then up at Gavin. "Did you want it?"

"That? No. There is somethin', though."

Connor took a quick look around, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Hank was elsewhere, talking up a storm most likely. "What's that?"

"'What's that?' You're cute, Connor."

Connor blushed almost automatically at the compliment, though he was pretty sure that Gavin had consumed far more than just one beer. "Um. Thanks. I.."

"Can we go out?"

"Uh. Sure, but it's raining so.. I brought an umbrella, it's in the-"

"No, I mean. Out. Together." Gavin grinned, and Connor had to admit he wasn't exactly unattractive. But Connor knew very little about him from the couple of times they'd crossed paths at Hank's workplace. He wasn't entirely sure his dad liked the man particularly, and he had no idea why that was except that Gavin was young and probably a bit hot-headed about things, whereas Hank was more old-school when it came to police work. He realized then that Gavin was still waiting for a reply.

"You mean.."

"On a date. Yeah, that's what I mean. Coffee, maybe? Lunch?"

"Okay." Connor wasn't sure why he was agreeing, except that it seemed the easier option. If he declined he'd have to say why, and getting lunch with Gavin wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him, was it? It wasn't like he was drowning in offers, either.

"Great. Tuesday?"

"Alright.."

"You can show me that place Hank keeps raving about. Jericho?"

Connor felt his heart thud hard in his chest at that one word. _Jericho._ Markus. He'd see them, wouldn't he? _And what would that matter? He's not interested in you in that way, Connor._ "Okay," he said, his throat feeling thick.

Connor told Hank on the way home later that night that he had a date, and Hank's face lit up right away when he said it was going to be lunch at Jericho.

"That boy finally asked you?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you tell me before? Never mind, it's great. I mean, it's been pretty obvious to anyone lookin'. That's great, Connor. Alright, so.. Tuesday? I guess I'll find someplace else to go for lunch, huh?"

"I'll make you something to take with you," Connor offered, guiltily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and likes so far, I'm overwhelmed actually, wasn't expecting it. I did reduce the number of chapters, only because I moved some things around so this is one of the longer chapters now. :)
> 
> I was going to update this again tomorrow before I realised I probably won't have the time or energy, so.. today. Enjoy?


	3. Dating Etiquette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North sighed. "He needs showing there's something better."
> 
> "Hmm."
> 
> "I'm talking about you."
> 
>  
> 
> [ **tw: this is where that dubcon groping warning comes in.** ]

Connor was a bundle of nerves by the time Tuesday lunch rolled around. He hadn't been into Jericho at all the day before, worried about seeing Markus, despite not knowing why. He'd told himself a hundred times since their chat that Markus was just being nice to him out of pity. There wasn't anything there to get worked up about, but getting worked up was in Connor's nature, it seemed.

Gavin was standing outside when Connor arrived, and he just grinned at the apology tripping off Connor's tongue.

"You're like two minutes late. Chill," Gavin said, moving to open the door and go on in ahead of him. He chose a table near the window while Connor looked helplessly at the table he and Hank preferred, over near the back wall. "Have a seat, Connor."

Connor nodded, picking at his shirt sleeves for a second before pulling out the chair opposite Gavin to sit down. 

"So what's good?"

"Everything," Connor replied, staring at Gavin's hands. "I usually have tea, and they do.. well, lots of different things. Filled croissants, pastries, sandwiches."

"Uh huh. And do you usually have such an audience when you come in here? Are we gonna have a problem?" 

Connor turned to see what Gavin was talking about, and saw Markus and two of his co-workers hastily looking away. "I guess.. no, it's okay. I'm just usually here with Dad, that's all. It's okay, really."

"Good."

Connor cringed as Gavin called out for service, and tried to sink into his seat as Markus came over. Of course.

"Hi, Connor."

"Um, hey. Markus, this is Gavin. Gavin, Markus."

Gavin looked unimpressed. "You must come here a lot to be on first-name terms with the staff." 

Connor honestly wanted to disappear at the way he said _staff_ , like Markus was.. what? Less, somehow? 

"Connor's one of our regulars. What can I get for you?"

Connor chanced a quick look up at Markus, who looked just as cool and collected as he sounded. Almost. There was something there that definitely wasn't, and Connor hoped Gavin didn't notice it too.

"I think I'll let my date decide," Gavin said, a definite challenge in his tone.

"Perfect." Markus turned to Connor, with what was clearly a strained smile. "How about some of our Russian Caravan tea? It pairs well with today's special sandwich."

"Sounds fine," Gavin said, before Connor had the chance to reply. Markus stayed put for a second, maybe waiting for Connor to speak, but again Gavin got there before him. "How about some privacy, buddy?"

Connor was sure he heard Markus mutter _how about some manners_ as he walked away. He looked back to find Gavin was staring at him, a predatory kind of grin playing on his lips.

"I meant what I said Sunday, by the way. You're cute, Connor, kinda hope you're not above breaking a few rules, though.. if you get what I mean."

"I-"

"Good. Get my balls busted enough at work, I don't need it anyplace else. So, are you a Wings fan like your dad? I follow them. Been to a bunch of games, too, I get discounted tickets through a cousin of mine? Got a pretty funny story about that.."

 

  


Simon had at least been merciful and taken their order instead of sending Markus out to do it. He came back after delivering the food with a grim look on his face. "You okay, man?"

"I don't get it," Markus muttered. "That guy?" Every time Markus had glanced over, Connor's date had been talking. He was kind of loud, and all of his stories seemed to be either about himself, or told at the expense of someone else. What the hell did Connor see in him?

"Maybe that's his type," Simon suggested, backing off at the look Markus gave him.

"Yeah, I don't think so," North said. "I know a thing or two about body language, and Connor is _not_ having a good time right now."

"So why is he still sitting there?" Markus asked, wishing he had somewhere he could put this rage he was feeling. It was misplaced, he knew. It wasn't as though he'd made a real move himself yet, was it? And Connor was free to date who he pleased, it was just.. _that_ guy?

"Because, dumb-ass. He's way too nice to say anything, probably. He's a sweetheart, you've said so yourself. Probably doesn't want to hurt the guy's feelings." North sighed. "He needs showing there's something better."

"Hmm."

"I'm talking about you."

"Yeah, well, I can't exactly go over there _now_ and ask him out to dinner, can I?"

North squeezed Markus' arm, smiling. "If I were him I'd be glad of the escape, but I guess it's against the rules of dating etiquette so, no. But you can paint on that back wall tonight like you wanted to."

"Is there any point?"

North's eyes narrowed at those words. "Of course there's a _point._ Look, he's on a first date, he's not marrying the guy! Stop talking like you've no chance there."

Markus sighed. "Fine. I'll paint it. I just.. I don't get why he even said yes to that in the first place."

"That's the spirit, kinda. Hey, why don't you go and see if Josh needs any help out back? We're quiet enough in here, saves you having to watch those two."

"Sure, okay. Sorry, North."

 

  


_Come over to my place tomorrow night. I'll get take-out._

Connor had agreed, though he wasn't sure why, except that it seemed easier than explaining a 'no'. He wasn't sure why Gavin wanted to see him again, as it hadn't felt like he was really that interested in getting to know Connor. Still, he'd said yes and there was no backing out of it now. Gavin had kissed him, too. Right outside Jericho, just as they'd been leaving. Connor hadn't seen it coming, hadn't been able to stop it, so he'd just taken it, all the while hoping that nobody inside was watching. Specifically, Markus.

He'd walked back to work and spent the rest of the afternoon worrying about the following night. What Gavin would expect of him, given that kiss, and what he wanted for himself. He knew he was probably vastly inexperienced compared to the detective, but evidently that didn't matter. Gavin said he'd take care of Connor, and Connor's brain apparently thought that sounded good.

Which was a stupid reason to go out with him again, but Connor wasn't sure he could adequately explain himself if he'd said no. Besides, he told himself, maybe Gavin was nervous as well. Maybe it was just an act, all that bravado and swagger. Maybe he'd be more comfortable in his home environment, and just maybe he'd give Connor a chance, get to know the real him, and offer some part of himself in return.

Hank asked how the lunch date had gone, once they both made it home that evening, and Connor managed a smile and said they were seeing each other again. Knowing his dad was waiting for more, he'd excused himself to go and shower, saying he needed to clean up then take Sumo out. He managed to avoid the topic for the rest of the night, somehow.

 

  


Markus hadn't expected anyone to stay behind with him while he painted, but North was there, happily watching Josh and Simon as they assisted.

"You should've just let me put salt in his tea," Simon said.

"Or a dulcolax," Josh added, making Markus laugh.

" _So_ tempting."

"Thank you guys for controlling yourselves," North said. "He'd have been the type to make a total scene about it, and I don't need that shit in my life."

"At least we could have barred him from ever coming back."

"Assholes like that _always_ come back, trust me."

"I suppose you're right." Markus stepped back to check his progress. It was getting there, but he knew it was going to be a long night. "It's just.. the way he treated Connor. They were both on that date, not that you'd have known it, and Connor deserves so much better than that. You know what? I don't care if it makes me a terrible person, I really hope they don't last."

"Trust me, they won't. So that's why you're painting this? Help the break-up along?" North asked. "It's looking good, by the way."

"I want him to know he's important," Markus replied. "Desirable. If it opens his eyes to how much better he can do than that guy he was with today, then that's a bonus."

"Yeah, I think he'll get it."

Markus hoped so. He'd spend all night on it if he needed to, it had to be perfect. Connor deserved this.

It was a little after ten when Josh said he needed to get home, and when North followed not long after, Markus started to think maybe he _would_ be here all night. He told Simon to go if he wanted, but Simon just replied that someone had to stay and make sure Markus went home himself at some point.

 

  


Something woke Connor from sleep, and a dream about mismatched eyes and soft, warm lips. He groaned, flailing his hand at where he thought his phone was. Finally he got hold of it and blinked, squinting at the message until it came into focus through the darkness. It was a private message to his YouTube account, and after seeing the username it was from, he opened it immediately, much more awake.

** JERICHO. ROUND BACK. YOU'LL LOVE THIS ONE. **

Well, that was new. It had only ever been a location, the last few times. Nothing about the messages had been personal before. 

He thought about what Hank had said to him, but the wording of the message had got him too curious. He needed to see what it was, and it couldn't wait until the weekend.

As quickly as he could, he got dressed and picked up his camera and Hank's car keys. He wasn't worried about waking his dad, knew he slept like the dead most nights. Sumo gave a soft woof at him as he went to the front door, but the big dog soon went back to sleep as well.

After spending the drive over thinking about it, Connor recorded the video's intro inside the car. Jericho was in near darkness, just the shadows of chairs stacked up on the tables and the faint glow of something up on the wall which Connor remembered was a bug zapping light. There were a couple of vehicles parked on the other side of the street, a motorbike further down, but not a soul in sight as Connor finally got out of the car. He thought he heard some movement as he walked around to the back of the building, but he couldn't tell where from and figured it was just his mind playing tricks on him. 

"So we're here to take a look at the latest from my name is, and I've got to tell you guys just as an aside? This happens to be my favourite coffee shop in all of Detroit. How strange is that, right? Anyway, let's go take a look at what.." Connor stopped, having panned up to the mural on the wall. "Uh."

 

  


Markus was going to _strangle_ Simon when he got hold of him. His so-called friend had been fiddling with his phone, said he wanted to get back because his new boyfriend was keeping the sheets warm and would probably only wait so long before starting without him, and had left just a few minutes before Markus got done with the painting. He'd just been signing the piece when he'd heard the car engine, barely had time to get out of the way before Connor came around the corner, talking into his camera.

He was hidden behind the dumpster, trying not to make a damn sound, well aware that there were probably rats or _worse_ crawling over his sneakers, and he knew he was stuck here until Connor was done.

Connor had stopped talking, and Markus peered out to see him staring at the painting that was still drying.

"Okay, I.. honestly had nothing to do with this," Connor was saying. "Hey, my name is. If you're watching this, and I sort of suspect you are, if you feel like telling me what your name is, you can message me directly. I just.." Connor seemed at a loss for words. Then he leaned closer to the wall. "Guys, this is still.. This is still wet. Oh, my god."

Markus was sure Connor would hear him any second, his breathing seemed far too loud to his ears. He took half a step back, trying to get further into the shadows, trying to slow his heartbeat as Connor took a quick look around himself.

"So, uh. Okay, in case you guys can't see it, this is a portrait. Of, uh. Of me. Kind of, I mean, it's a pretty idealised version of me, but.. artistic license, am I right? Wow. So, it's kind of stunning. I mean, I'm stunned." Connor laughed self-consciously, and took a step back from the wall to capture all of the details for his video.

"I wish I knew who you were so I could tell you how this.. It's just, nobody's ever done something like this before. Not for me, not because of me. See as well, this is right here at this coffee shop. This negative space here? It's in the shape of the table I like to sit at. They're all different, it's kind of quirky, one of the things I love about the place? Every bit of furniture in there is unique. So I know the shape of it. I'm just geeking out over here, don't mind me." Connor laughed again, and Markus itched to just go out there and kiss him, have the taste of that laughter on his tongue. 

"Just, check out the colours as well. Are my eyes that brown? Hm, I guess they are. I don't know. This isn't.. I don't think this was painted like the others. This must have taken a bit of time. Okay, so whoever did this, you were at Jericho at some point? Now I'm wishing I paid more attention to who else was in there. This is beautiful, seriously. I mean, not because it's me. I don't think I'm.. not like _that_. Just, somehow you've made me look.. I don't know. Better."

 _Somehow?_ Markus almost sighed. 

"Honestly, you should see me first thing in the morning. I think you'd change how you imagine me pretty quick." Connor was saying, and oh, wasn't that an inviting statement? Markus was sure Connor was probably blushing now, if he'd realised what he'd just implied.

In all, Connor spoke about the rest of the portrait and the techniques and colours used for another twelve minutes before he finally ended the video. Markus' legs were starting to cramp up from standing so still, and he had to ride home yet. He watched Connor leave, and waited another five minutes until he heard a car's engine start, heard the rumble of it getting quieter as Connor drove away.

He got back to his bike and took out his phone.

** Almost got caught thanks to you. ASSHOLE. **

Simon texted back thirty seconds later. 'ALMOST'? NBD THEN RIGHT? DID HE LIKE IT?

**Not the point.**

ADMIT IT. U ENJOYED THAT.

**Why are we friends?**

LOVE U MAN. GO 2 SLEEP.

**I'd be asleep already if it wasn't for you.**

NIGHT

Giving up, Markus pocketed his phone and pulled on his gloves and crash helmet. He'd deal with Simon in the morning.

 

  


Connor wanted nothing more than to stay at home and get an early night, maybe take a look at the comments on his video and see if there was anything in them that might tell him more about who his mystery artist was. But he'd said yes to Gavin, and he couldn't back out of that so late in the day, however much he might have wanted to.

"Dinner's in the oven," he told Hank, heading through the lounge. "It's okay if I borrow the car?"

"Sure. So he's taking you out for dinner, huh?"

Connor chewed at his lip. He still hadn't told his dad exactly who he was seeing. Nor that he was going to Gavin's apartment. He could only imagine what the response to _that_ would be.

"Yeah. I shouldn't be too late back.."

"You're an adult, Connor. Just, y'know. Be careful. Safe."

Connor swallowed down his embarrassment and nodded. "Of course. Uh, anyway. I left a timer on, so just-"

"I think I can manage that. Thanks, Connor. Anyway, go on. Have fun."

Connor wasn't sure exactly how much fun another date with Gavin was going to be. He hoped it might be different - _better_ \- than the first one, at least. "Okay. See you later."

 

  


Markus was exhausted. It had been a busy day of work, with a steady stream of people coming by Jericho just to go around and look at his painting. It felt like every one of Connor's many subscribers had paid a visit by the time they'd flipped the sign to closed, though North kept telling Markus to stop apologising for it and just prepare for a similar day tomorrow. 

"Maybe I should paint over it," he said, as they sat with their usual end-of-day drinks and a plate of Josh's macarons.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"You heard what some of those guys - and girls - were saying when they came in here. I thought some of the comments online were bad, but.. I don't know. Connor comes in here a lot, I just worry he's going to run into these people and-"

"They're all talk," North said, though Markus could see she was thinking about it too. "Listen, if you want to paint it over, we will. You can always do it again, someplace safer. If he comes and asks where it's gone, I'll tell him the owners wanted it removed."

"Okay."

"It's still not going to stop the weirdos coming in here if all they want is to see Connor, though," Simon pointed out.

"Great," Markus groaned. "It's not what I meant to happen."

North reached over and put her hand on his arm. "Hey, he's the one who told everyone where the wall was, you know? But we'll watch out for him. His dad's enough to scare anyone off, don't you think? Being a cop and all?"

"I guess."

 

  


Connor had been having an okay time, he thought. He had very little to compare it to, of course, but Gavin had bought Thai food which was tasty and he hadn't questioned Connor not wanting a beer to go with it. They'd eaten, then settled in to watch the Red Wings game together. Gavin had edged closer to Connor during the commercials and put a warm hand on his knee. It felt nice, but Connor wasn't exactly sure how to respond. So he'd tried to concentrate on the woman with the too-white smile selling toothpaste or the new Lexus, he wasn't really sure because Gavin was touching his thigh now and it was making him nervous.

Then Gavin started kissing his neck, and Connor made an odd, strangled sound and tried to remember how far away the front door was. 

"You like that?"

"I'm not.." Connor knew his ears were burning, was pretty sure that it was going to spread all the way down, and Gavin was going to realise any second just how inexperienced he really was. He flinched when Gavin's fingers brushed his inseam, but it seemed to go unnoticed. Either that or Gavin just didn't care, which Connor _knew_ was worse. He reminded himself silently that he didn't have to take this. How many times had Hank told him the same thing?

"Is your dad gonna be pissed if you don't go home tonight?" Gavin asked, and Connor heard the faint mocking undertone to the words. Chose to ignore it.

"It's my decision," he said, swallowing hard as Gavin pressed the heel of his hand in. _You've already decided, Connor. Just get out of here_ , he told himself.

"Good. I want to fuck you so bad."

"I.." Connor whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. _Just fucking say it, Connor._ "I don't.."

"Your dick's saying otherwise, sweetheart."

"I want you to stop doing _that_."

"Come on. Don't be a pricktease, Connor. You're hot for it, I know you are."

Gavin tried to flick open the top button of Connor's fly next, finally making Connor move. He shoved Gavin's hand away and stood, swallowing several times to try and stop panic setting in.

"Fuck's wrong with you?" Gavin demanded.

"Nothing! This doesn't feel right. I just.. I wanted to know you better." Connor tried to calm himself down, ended up folding his arms over his chest to try and stop from shaking. He wasn't sure if it was fear or anger that was boiling up inside of him, but he needed to keep it under control. "I wanted you to.. know _me_ better. Shouldn't it mean something? This just isn't.. I don't know. I don't want to do this. Not like this."

"Oh, you don't? 'cause you seemed pretty into it before."

Connor shrugged again, silently watching Gavin push up off the couch to approach him.

"Hey, come on. We were having fun, weren't we?"

" _No._ " Connor said, through clenched teeth. "No. I think I should go. This.. I don't think this is a good idea any more. Do you even like me?"

Gavin's hand closed over Connor's shoulder. "Of course I _like_ you. You're hot, Connor. Come on."

"That isn't what I meant." Connor could feel his face turning red, knew there were tears in his eyes, and all he wanted to do was get out of this apartment and go.. anywhere else. Not home, not yet. But not here. And Gavin was still looking at him like he'd probably change his mind somehow, that this was just him being shy. "Please just let me go?"

"Relax, I'm not doing anything. Just come sit down again. We don't have to-"

Connor shook his head, though he was trembling as he stood his ground. He knew if he gave in, he'd wind up regretting it. He also knew he _had_ to get out of here before Gavin tried anything else, or Connor would end up punching him. "No.. I'm leaving. I'm sorry, this was a mistake. I.. I won't tell my dad."

Gavin tightened his grip, a dangerous look in his eye for a second before Connor's words sank in. "Fine. Whatever. Go, then."

 

  


Markus picked up the two bags of trash, his last job of the night being to throw them in the dumpster out back, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw someone out there. Assuming it was just another in the steady stream of gawkers who'd been by, he called out. "Hey, you know we're closed, right?"

Then the guy turned, and Markus realised who it was underneath the oversized DPD hoodie.

"Connor?"

"Sorry, I can go. I was just.. I was on my way home. I didn't think anyone was still here."

"It's okay. We were just getting ready to leave." Markus looked at him properly then, seeing a shine to his eyes that made his chest start to ache. "Are you alright?"

Connor's shoulder lifted, and he gave Markus a slightly helpless look, like he wasn't sure how to answer that question.

Markus dumped the bags and moved closer to Connor, glancing at the painted wall. "We had quite a lot of people come by today wanting to see that. I guess they all saw your video."

"Oh." Connor's eyes widened. "Oh, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry about it. It was great for business. You have a lot of fans."

"I shouldn't have told them all where to find this, though."

Markus shrugged. "They'd have found it eventually anyway. But.. uh, you might want to keep a low profile for a few days. Around this place, at least. Some of the people we had in, they sounded a little.. obsessive?"

Connor sighed, looking up at the portrait again. "I'm really sorry."

"What happened?" Markus asked, gentle.

Biting his lip, Connor looked down at the ground between them. "Bad date." Connor pulled the hoodie tighter around himself even though it wasn't cold. Markus wanted to wrap Connor up in his arms instead, but he didn't think that would be a good move just now. As much as he'd hoped that Connor wouldn't want to see that guy again, he also hated seeing Connor upset. "I don't.. I don't want to talk about it. Do you know who painted this?"

"I just work here," Markus said, which was the only way he could think of to avoid _that_ question without lying. "It's a great representation, though," he offered, hoping he was being comforting.

"Hey, Markus, the rats get you or some.. oh." Simon grinned as both Markus and Connor turned to look at him. "Uh. Hey. Am I interrupting?"

"I should get going," Connor said, at the same time as Markus asked Simon to just give him five minutes. Connor was staring at him in surprise when he looked back.

"Sure, five minutes. Just a heads up though, North's threatening to steal your bike, so.. y'know." Simon disappeared inside again, and Markus tried to think of what exactly to say.

"I'm sorry you had a crappy date. That guy from the other day?" 

Connor's shoulders hunched up slightly, and he looked away from Markus' eyes back to the painting. "Yes. I think I just need to reassess what I'm looking for."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Markus asked, concerned by Connor's body language. He was bristling at the thought, wondered if he should ask North if they could just ban Gavin from Jericho. Maybe find him and lay him out for good measure. Part of him knew it wouldn't help matters, though.

Connor shook his head. "No, I didn't give him the chance. I guess I just.. hoped things would go differently. I don't know what I wanted."

"Well, maybe what you need is not to take the first offer that comes your way? There are decent guys out there, Connor."

"Yeah."

Connor sounded so dejected that Markus wanted to just tell him everything right then and there and show him he deserved better. But he knew that now wasn't remotely close to being the right time.

"Connor, if.." Markus paused, not sure quite how to word it. "If he did something to you, even if you don't think it was all that bad? If it was something you didn't want, you've got to.. You don't have to tell me, but you should tell someone."

Eyes wetter still, Connor nodded. "Yeah, I know. I just.." He sighed, stepping closer to Markus. "I meant to go straight home, but dad's there and I couldn't.."

Markus understood. He opened his arms and let Connor come to him, hugged him close for a few seconds. "Doesn't have to be your dad, either."

"Thanks, Markus," Connor mumbled, backing off again. 

"You know, if you still want to come here for your tea fix, you can always knock on the door ten minutes after closing. We tend to hang around a while after we flip the sign. Deconstruct the day, put the world right, that kind of thing. We're kind of a family, I've known them all a long while. Good people, and I feel like you could use more of those in your life. Don't take it the wrong way, I mean I see how close you and your dad are.. but friends in your own age group are a great thing to have as well. Not one of them would mind, I promise."

There it was, the small smile Markus had been hoping for.

"I might do that. Thank you."

Markus smiled back, looking up at the painting again. There was no way he could paint over it now. It was Connor's, and evidently it was something that gave him some comfort. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, I think I'll head home. It was.. really nice, talking to you again."

"You too, Connor."

 

  


Saturday came around, and Markus was starting to think that Connor hadn't taken his invitation at all seriously. Until he was out back helping Josh with dishwashing and Simon appeared at the kitchen doorway, sweeping brush still in hand, to tell him his muse was at the door.

"Well, didn't you let him in?" Markus asked.

"North is." Simon spied the plate of carrot cake and chocolate fudge cake leftovers then, and grinned. "Better run an extra mile or two this weekend."

Josh turned from the sink to shoot Simon a look. "Nobody's forcing you to eat them."

"Try and stop me." Simon put the broom back in its place, and picked up the plate. "Better hurry up, suckers."

Markus looked at the last tray of dishes, and Josh shook his head. "Go on. This'll take me all of two minutes."

Connor was standing awkwardly near the counter when Markus went through. North was chattering away to him while she checked and sorted the cash register, and he was listening attentively, but looked at the same time as though he wasn't sure he should even be there.

"Hi," Markus said, and Connor turned to look at him, giving him a relieved smile.

"Hi Markus. North was just telling me the onslaught's died down a little?"

"Oh.. yeah. Just the usual Saturday crowd today, mostly. I told you they'd give up pretty quick, huh?"

"I'm glad. I mean.. Um, well, I thought I'd come by anyway. I've been missing the tea."

"I thought you might," Markus said, chuckling. "Why don't you take a seat over there, maybe stop Simon eating _all_ of the cake? I'll make the drinks." North was looking at the two of them, and Markus could see her wanting to say something. Maybe bash their heads together. "You too, boss."

She closed the register with a shrug. "Guess we'd better do as we're told. Come on, Connor. The carrot cake is _amazing_ today."

 

  


Connor watched Markus, the effortless way he handled making five completely different drinks to all be ready at more or less the same time. The way the muscles in his shoulders moved with certain actions. He barely noticed Josh come out and take a seat at the table they were sat around.

"So are you any closer to unmasking the mysterious artist who left that painting out back?" Simon asked, pulling Connor back to the conversation.

"Oh.. no, not exactly. I'm not even sure if I want to do that? I mean.." Connor started to blush, because now all three of them were looking at him, and Markus was on his way over as well with the tray of drinks, all fluid, leonine grace. _God._ "I don't know. Maybe the mystery's better. I focus more on the art.."

"You must be curious though?" Simon asked.

"Yes. Sure, of course I am. But I think if he doesn't want to be known, it's not my place to expose him." Connor looked up as Markus set the tray down, saw an unreadable expression on his face.

"Fair enough," North said. "You never know, though. Maybe some day he'll want you to know."

"Maybe."

"He _did_ paint a portrait of you, after all," she added.

"Guys," Markus muttered.

"It's okay," Connor said. "I mean, yes, it's kind of weird to think that I could inspire anyone to that sort of.. well, not weird. Flattering. Massively flattering."

"Don't sell yourself short, Connor," North told him. "And have some cake."

"I'm guessing you're more of a carrot cake kind of guy?" Simon volunteered, pushing the plate across at him.

"They look amazing, both of them."

"So try a piece of each," Josh said, obviously pleased at the compliment.

Markus had taken the empty seat beside Connor, and the edges of their adjacent feet were pressed together. Connor swallowed at the contact, feeling stupidly nervous suddenly. Why was he being brought into this particular fold? It wasn't like he'd really earned the place, was it? But Markus had asked. Markus wanted him here, for some reason.

Then it hit Connor, looking around the table at the others as he took a piece of carrot cake off the plate. They were friends, which meant that he was considered a friend by extension. Maybe that's what Markus was trying to tell him? That anything more was off the table?

His throat felt a little thick at that revelation, but he swallowed his mouthful anyway, and managed a smile. "Tastes as good as it looks."

"Of course it does," Simon said. "Josh is an incredible cook. Baker, pastry chef, whatever."

"Alright, Si," Josh murmured, starting to look embarrassed.

"What? It's the truth."

North was watching the two of them, making Connor do the same thing out of curiosity, but then Markus was speaking again, distracting him.

"How's your weekend been, anyhow? No more crappy dates, I hope?"

"No, none of those," Connor replied, feeling everyone else's eyes turn to look at him. Had Markus told them or not? "Actually, dad's been working for most of it so far, so it's just been me and Sumo. Um. The dog. Our dog. He's kind of a big doof, but.." Connor shrugged, knowing he was babbling. "Well, we love him anyway. So we went for a walk, and I showed him some of the stuff I've made videos about? Then he almost peed on one of them.. Uh. Thankfully it got out unscathed.. Then we watched a movie and.. wow, yeah. Sorry. Not an exciting weekend."

"Hey, we were all working here," North said, patting Connor's arm. "Your weekend sounds like heaven to me. I think that's gonna be me tomorrow. Without the dog. PJ days for the win, right?"

"Really?" Simon asked. "I was going to spend my day walking around the apartment naked.. kind of hoped you'd be off with your new beau so I could?"

"Shit, if you're doing that, I'm _definitely_ going out instead. I've seen your junk, babe, it ain't all that."

Simon's mouth fell open almost comically, and Connor couldn't help but laugh. He also caught the sidelong look Josh gave Simon, and started to really wonder what was going on there.

 

  


Markus walked Connor up to the bus stop once everyone else had gone their separate ways. He was pleased to see that Connor looked more relaxed - everyone had welcomed him in as one of their own and in the hour they'd spent just chatting, he'd seemed to get more and more comfortable. He'd also noticed Connor in quieter conversation with North while he'd helped Simon and Josh clear everything away, and he had a feeling he knew what it was about. He was glad, because honestly? North would have been his first suggestion if Connor had asked him.

"So you have an open invite for late-evening tea and cake whenever you want, it looks like," he said as they reached the stop.

"I had a good time. Thanks for asking me." Connor smiled, his cheeks a little rosy. 

"I hope your dad enjoys the cake, too. If you refrigerate it, it'll still be good tomorrow."

"I'll do that. Thanks, Markus."

Markus wanted to say something else, had an impulse to ask Connor what he was doing the following day, but of course at that moment the bus arrived. "See you soon," was all he managed to say instead.


	4. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew, at least to an extent, why he needed Connor to figure it out for himself. It wasn't entirely about the romance of it, it was more that if he was going to ask Connor out - and he intended to, he really did - he'd want Connor to know everything first. Not find it out while they were dating.
> 
> Assuming he'd even say yes, once he knew.

Markus stepped out of the shower after an impromptu morning run - really, he hadn't been detouring past places he'd thought Connor might possibly be out walking Sumo - and dried off roughly before dropping onto his bed. He had a sketchbook there and a tin of pencils he'd left out from before the run, when he'd been trying to sketch and had managed nothing but a dozen half-formed portraits of Connor.

He wanted to get out and paint a new piece, possibly not inviting Simon along with him this time, but he knew he couldn't just do another one like the last.

What then? 

He knew, at least to an extent, why he needed Connor to figure it out for himself. It wasn't entirely about the romance of it, it was more that if he was going to ask Connor out - and he intended to, he really did - he'd want Connor to know everything first. Not find it out while they were dating.

Assuming he'd even say yes, once he knew.

 _Dumbass, just tell him now. Get it over with._ He could almost hear North's voice in his head.

But. He had a plan. Connor was all about the details in his pieces, wasn't he? Well then, he'd make sure there were enough of them for Connor to do the math and find the answers he was looking for.

 

  


 

"Hey, Connor, you busy?"

Connor looked away from his laptop screen to Hank, who was standing in his bedroom doorway, bowling bag in one hand. "Why?"

"Chris's kid is sick, so I need a bowling partner."

The league was something Connor had suggested Hank join a few months back, all part of his plan to make Hank be more sociable. It seemed to be working, and as it turned out, Hank wasn't too bad at it. It stoked a competitive side Connor hadn't known about, and gave Hank something to look forward to.

"So naturally you thought of me?" Connor asked, watching Sumo push past Hank's legs to come into his room and see what was going on.

"Listen kid, if you're gonna be a smart-ass about it-"

"Alright. Alright, I'll come with you. But if your handicap or whatever goes up.." Connor paused at the look on Hank's face. "Down? Okay, if I mess up your game, you can't say you didn't know I was terrible."

"You're not _that_ bad," Hank argued.

"Out of practice though."

"Whatever. I'll wait in the car. Sumo, stay off that bed, you hear me?"

Connor gave the dog a look, and waited for Hank to leave before he patted his bed. "Don't soak my pillow with drool, promise?"

 

  


 

"You know.. I've been meaning to ask you somethin'," Hank said, as he handed Connor a pair of bowling shoes.

"What's that?"

"That date you had last week.. what happened? 'cause I'm guessin' it wasn't good since we haven't been back to Jericho since. That Markus kid break your heart?"

Connor felt his cheeks flush just at the mention of Markus' name, and shook his head. "No, it wasn't like that. I mean, it wasn't Markus."

Hank's face fell. "Oh. Then.. why'd you say-"

"I never said it was him, _you_ did," Connor told him. He swallowed immediately after saying it, mumbling some apology for his tone as he sat down to change shoes. "Look, it doesn't matter who it was or wasn't, I'm not seeing him again, so can we maybe just forget about it?"

Hank dropped into the seat opposite him, grumbling under his breath.

"I'm not sure Markus is even interested in me in that way anyway. And I stopped going to Jericho for a while because of that painting-"

"Why should that stop you?"

Connor tried to sink down further into himself. "Because. There were people who saw it and figured they might get.. I don't know, close to me if they hung out at the same coffee shop. Markus warned me that some of them could be kind of overbearing I guess? So that's why I haven't wanted to go there, at least not during opening hours."

Hank was watching him, the same look in his eyes he got when he was mulling over a particularly difficult case.

"Markus warned you, huh?"

"I guess he didn't want me to encounter any tough situations? Or rabid fans, which was how North described a couple of them."

"North? That's the girl, right? Yeah, she doesn't seem the sort that'd take any shit from anyone."

Connor grinned at the admiration in Hank's voice, and nodded. "You're right."

"So, hold up. What d'you mean 'not during opening hours'?"

Connor shrugged, bending to tie the laces of his other shoe. Mostly to avoid looking Hank in the eye while he answered, because he just _knew_ what would come next. "Markus told me I could come back after closing to hang out with them all. So I did. Saturday night, actually, while you were working."

"Huh." And there it was. The ubiquitous 'huh' that encompassed all the thoughts Connor knew Hank was having right now. 

"It's not like that," he said, though he knew it was futile. Hank was convinced that Markus was pining for him or something, and Connor was never going to change his mind. However much he secretly hoped his dad was right. "They were all really nice. I'm pretty sure two of them are sleeping together, actually-"

"Don't tell me Markus-"

"Not him. Though, really, it's nothing to do with me if he is."

"So you say."

"Anyway, I must've picked up some of your detective skills, because I don't think anyone else has a clue about it."

Hank chuckled at that, patting Connor's shoulder as he got up. "Least I've passed somethin' useful onto you. Even if it's not a talent for bowling."

"You said I wasn't that bad!"

 

  


 

Markus had decided to leave his next painting until Saturday night rolled around again, so was surprised when the notification came through about a new video from ResonantKarma800. 

"Ooh," North said when he showed her. "Better up your game, hot stuff, or someone else is going to steal him from right under your nose."

"What's this now?" Simon wanted to know, passing by with a tray of dirty dishes.

"Doe Eyes uploaded a new video." North just grinned sweetly when Markus glared at her. "You want some time alone to go watch it?"

"Ha ha. Tempting offer, but I think I'll wait until later." 

"Can't _imagine_ why," she said, giving him a wink. "Maybe he's figured it out already?"

"I don't.. No, I don't think so." He couldn't have. Could he? Surely he would have come over in person and said something if he had. Unless it wasn't a welcome revelation. 

North squeezed his shoulder, smiling reassuringly. "At least he dumped that poor excuse for a man he brought here, right?"

"Right."

 

  


 

Markus didn't settle down with his laptop until close to eleven. He opened up Connor's latest video, confused by the thumbnail image which just looked to be Connor sitting in front of a camera, instead of out on the streets of Detroit. Then he noticed for the first time the title of it, and it made sense. 

"So, hey guys. Today we're doing something a bit different, because it's been more than a week and nothing new's come up from my name is. You've been asking questions here and there in the comments, and I figured since I have the time I'll try and answer some of them." Connor held up a notebook - the same one Markus had seen him writing in a few times at Jericho. "So I copied a whole bunch of them down, and I'll try and get through as many as I can. Anyway, since this is a live video as well, feel free to add new questions right there in the comments and I'll do my best to get to those too."

 _Damn_ , Markus thought. He'd missed an opportunity there, hadn't he?

"Okay, wow, that was quick. Yes, I'm at home. This is actually my room, and.. wait, can I give you guys a brief tour? Sure. Sure, I can do that. Uh.."

Markus smiled as the camera was jostled, Connor getting behind it to show whoever was watching where he made his videos. He talked a little bit about the software he used, since someone had apparently asked that as well, skimmed over his bed ("it's a total mess, the dog got up there - sorry dad - and.. yeah, you don't need to see that") and focused instead on a couple of the prints on the walls. Markus recognised one of them immediately, since it was the work of his own father. 

"I've mentioned Carl Manfred before, of course, not even all that long ago. There's a showcase of some of his work going on in the city right now, and this is one of my favourite pieces from the whole collection. Obviously in print form." Connor chuckled self-consciously. "They'd have something to say if I walked out with the canvas under my arm, I think. Uh.. Anyway, this is called _Flight_. It's got this gorgeous, dreamlike quality to it. Honestly, if I believed he could paint in his sleep, I'd say that's how this was created."

Markus remembered the piece well. Carl had told him he'd painted it not all that long after his accident, as a kind of middle finger to his wheelchair and a reminder to himself that he wasn't confined by it. Markus had always loved it himself. It was strength and grace all in one, bold colours and subtler undertones that were Carl through and through.

Connor was moving on, pointing out a couple of books that he particularly loved, and a small collection of postcards tacked to a corkboard that some of his dad's colleagues had collected for him. "I mean, mostly they're from within the United States, but I do have this one here from the Taj Mahal. Always thought the story behind that place was.. kind of romantic. Uh, so moving on. This PacMan lamp was a gift from my dad. It's probably one of the coolest things in here, in fact. I guess if you weren't sure I was a nerd before, you know now?" He flicked the lamp on for a second, then off again.

"Yeah, I love the old arcade style video games. I got into them kind of late, though. Anyway.. Now I've bored you guys to death, let's get back to the rest of your questions!"

Markus paused the video, not entirely sure what it was he was feeling. It was as though, in spite of Connor inviting him to look, he'd somehow intruded on a private space. Like it was something he shouldn't have seen, at least not yet. Then the thought struck him that he wasn't the only one who'd seen it, and curiosity made him scroll down through the comments.

Immediately, he wished he hadn't. One of the top few read _u r such a babe, I wanna mess up that bed with u!!_ A number of people had chimed in with their agreement, although a few had told this person to get a life, among other choice insults. He set the video playing again, saw Connor settle back at his desk in front of the camera, and saw the moment that comment must have popped up during the live streaming.

"Guys, let's keep it civil, shall we?" he was saying, looking about as flustered as Markus had ever seen him. "I know I said you can ask anything, but this channel is primarily about art, so I'm going to be mostly answering questions pertaining to that subject. Okay? Okay.. Here's one from someone in Toronto, let's see.. oh. Okay, well I guess it's about art, but I'm not sure.. Well, alright. So the question is how do you feel about being mni's inspiration?"

Connor looked back up into the camera, a small, shy smile on his lips that made Markus almost ache with want. "I really don't know if that's what I am. Obviously like I said before, I'm extremely flattered to be the subject of one of his paintings. But I don't think of myself as inspirational. I think it was just his way of saying hello?" Connor shrugged, still smiling. "Or maybe even goodbye, since we haven't heard from him in a while. I guess we'll see, right?"

Markus frowned at what Connor was saying. _Why do you have such a low opinion of yourself, Connor?_

He watched the rest of the video without pause, listening to Connor answer a few more questions about his favourite artists, and talk a little about the music he liked to listen to - soul, blues, a few singer-songwriters. The heavy metal thing was a surprise, though. He also got a glimpse of Sumo, and Connor's love for the dog was just as evident as it had been when he'd mentioned him at Jericho.

Okay, so maybe whoever had said it was right. Markus was falling, and falling _hard._

He couldn't wait another night to paint, not now. And since he couldn't wait forever for Connor to find it, he knew he'd have to do as Simon had done and send Connor a message. _After_ he was finished, this time.

 

  


 

Connor had borrowed Hank's DPD hoodie again to try and disguise himself at least a little bit, so that he could go over to Jericho and have breakfast there - hopefully in peace. He knew Markus was grinning about it before he even reached the counter, and he just shot a wry smile right back. "This is my low profile look, okay?"

"Hey, I said nothing. On your own today?"

"Dad's working.. He's been out since just before four this morning, actually. Big case, he said. So I've been awake a while, and.. uh. Breakfast here sounded good."

"Couldn't get back to sleep?" Markus asked, already reaching for one of the large tea-cups. He looked tired as well, Connor thought, but he didn't mention it.

"Oh.. well, no. I got a message about a new mni artwork about an hour after dad left, so.. Obviously I had to go and check it out. Took Sumo with me actually." Connor sighed, recalling what a dumb idea _that_ had been. He'd managed to shoot some footage anyway, though Sumo had made it twice as difficult. 

"Oh?" Something about that one word struck Connor as odd, but he couldn't place what it was exactly.

"Yeah, um. It's on the wall of the parking lot opposite where I work.. Here, I can show you if you want? I took a picture." Connor reached into his jacket pocket for his cellphone, and heard someone behind him clear their throat. He turned to see a rather impatient looking woman staring daggers at him. "Uh. Sorry.. why don't I-"

"Hey, it's okay," Markus said. 

Connor shook his head, starting to get that small feeling he often got. "I don't know what I want yet anyway. It's fine, I'll go sit and decide. Sorry," he added again, for the benefit of the woman behind him.

He was at his table for just a couple of minutes before Markus slipped into the opposite seat to his. The sleeves of his henley were bunched up above his elbows, and Connor found himself staring for a second before he remembered to tear his gaze away and look Markus in the eyes instead. And honestly, he didn't know which was worse.

"Any thoughts yet?" Markus asked, touching the edge of the menu that Connor had laid on the table in front of him but hadn't actually looked at.

"I'm not sure. What would you recommend?" Connor couldn't take his eyes off Markus' hands now. Was there anything about him that wasn't absolutely perfect? There was coloured chalk dust on his knuckles as well, and Connor realised that Markus must have drawn on the specials board. He wanted to comment on it, but Markus was already answering him.

"Well, Josh makes pretty amazing french toast, so I'd probably go with that. The apple bread works well for it with cinnamon sugar and syrup, if you're in a sweet kind of mood."

Connor hoped he wasn't outwardly drooling as he nodded to that suggestion. "Sounds good," he managed to add.

"Pair it with a strong breakfast tea and you're all set for the day, I'd say." 

"Okay. Yes, that'd be great."

Markus nodded, looking uncertain for a moment. Connor hadn't noticed it before, but he realised now that Markus also had a habit of biting at his lower lip when he wasn't sure of something. It was.. _distractingly_ cute.

"So.. this artwork?" He finally asked.

"Oh! Right, yes. Here, let me find the picture I took." Connor opened up his gallery, suddenly embarrassed by the sheer amount of pictures he'd taken of various walls around the city. But that heat was nothing compared to what started to coil in him when Markus moved his chair around to be closer and see better. Connor could feel the warmth of his skin where their arms rested along the table, just touching. He selected the most recent picture, turning his phone to make it full screen, and only just stifled a whimper when Markus reached to help him hold it up.

"That's.. interesting."

"It is." Connor cleared his throat in an effort to make his voice sound slightly less broken, because what Markus was doing really wasn't fair. At all. "I'm going to head back over there later with my other camera and no dog. I like to have detailed pictures taken in daylight. I know I miss things. In my videos, I mean. But I think that's part of the fun? Maybe it encourages people to go look for themselves, find the things I didn't. This one, though.. I don't know. I feel like.."

"Like what?" Markus prompted, when Connor paused too long.

"It was near where I work, that's all. That, after the portrait? I feel like it was meant for me to see." Connor laughed awkwardly. "I'm probably overthinking it."

"On the other hand, maybe you're right." Markus gave Connor's forearm a light, friendly squeeze, then a sudden, bright grin. He still had his fingers resting around Connor's phone, and quickly hit the camera icon. "You should have at least one selfie in your gallery, don't you think?"

Connor blinked in surprise as Markus set the camera to the right mode before taking the phone from Connor's hand altogether. He held it up and leaned in close until they were almost cheek to cheek. Connor could _feel_ his smile, and wanted simultaneously for this moment not to end, and the ground to swallow him whole. Markus took the picture, and Connor was certain he'd probably blinked, or somehow messed it up another way. 

But no. When Markus put the picture full-screen, it was perfect. "There. So your next mission is to get one with North. She hates selfies," Markus explained. "I hope you're up to the challenge."

Connor couldn't seem to find his voice, so he just took his phone back from Markus with a little nod. How could Markus know he'd just added Connor's new favourite picture to his gallery?

"Okay," Markus said, after the moment passed. "I'm going to leave you be and get that breakfast ordered for you. And you know what? I'm sure the paintings _were_ meant for you. Keep at it, you'll find what you're looking for."

 

  


 

"So what's next?" North asked, locking the door after her. Markus was waiting for her, as Simon had already gone on ahead with Josh. "Do you even have a back-up plan if he never figures any of this out? Like.. oh, I don't know, just asking him out to his _face_?"

"He'll get it, North," Markus insisted. "He's already looking, it won't take him all that long."

"I really hope you're right. Because as sweet as watching the two of you moon over each other is? It's gonna get old before long."

"Wow, thanks." Markus was laughing though. "So where are we headed?"

"There's a new Mexican place opened up." North replied, sounding excited about that fact. "Amazing tequila, and the tamales are apparently to die for."

"Tequila? North, I don't-"

"It's Saturday night, Markus. You've earned this, c'mon."

"Alright. One drink."

Markus already knew he was going to regret this.

 

  


 

Connor woke up late to an empty house and a note on the kitchen table that just read 'sumo fed, not walked.' He looked over at the dog, and sighed. "Okay. Give me ten minutes and we'll go out." He wasn't sure what the case was that Hank was working on, but he knew that it was a big one. Had to be, the amount of hours his dad had already put in. 

Twenty minutes later, he and Sumo were out and nearing the park. Connor was still thinking about the pictures he'd taken and spent a while analysing after he'd finished editing his video about the piece last night. The rose from the junkyard mural had made another appearance, and there was a tea-cup which brought to mind the Jericho painting. They were floating on moonlit water, along with a violin. At the edge of the water was a sandbank, shapes flowing out of it towards a motorcycle carrying a figure that was breathing fire. It was a gorgeous work, but there was a lot more going on in it than Connor was used to. 

But he'd examined all of the elements together, and only one thing had come to mind. _RiverDays_ , a festival that was happening in a little under two weeks, down by Detroit's riverfront. There was a bike night, wasn't there? Sand sculptures and street performers, which explained those sections. Why was my name is telling him about a music festival?

"Connor?"

Connor looked around sharply, pulled out of his thoughts. That sounded a lot like-

"Hey. Thought it was you. Well, I'll be honest, you're hard to miss with Sumo in tow, hey buddy. Nice to finally meet you."

Okay, so apparently the universe was just all out to mess with him today, because here was Markus looking both sweaty and absolutely _glorious_ all at the same time, crouched down to fuss Sumo. Also, kind of hungover? _Christ, look at those legs. Wow._ "Oh.. God, sorry, he drools a lot." _While I'm trying really hard not to._

"No problem," Markus said, still scratching the dog's chin. He stopped though, straightening up again. "You seemed lost in thought, I wasn't sure if I should interrupt."

Connor felt like he was actually lost in the taut stretch of Markus' t-shirt at the moment, and it was a fight to drag his eyes up from that. He knew he was blushing as well, silently wishing he'd gone anywhere else. Even if it would have meant missing this beautiful sight. "I.. I was just.. I don't know. Are you okay?"

Markus shook his head, looking rueful. "One too many tequila shots last night. I figured a run would clear my head, and it's sort of working."

"Was it a party?" Connor asked, cringing inwardly. Could he sound any dumber?

"No, just a good atmosphere. We went out for Mexican food after work. See, if you'd showed up at Jericho last night, you could have come along with us."

"Oh, I'm not exactly a tequila drinker.."

Markus grinned. "You might've stopped me from getting so drunk, though."

"I.. Maybe," Connor agreed, though he was wondering _how?_

"So where are you headed to? Mind if I walk with you?"

Connor glanced at Sumo, who was sat down and watching the two of them. _You're a big help._ "Actually.. why don't I buy you a coffee?" Connor wasn't sure where that had come from, but Markus was smiling and saying that a coffee sounded really good just now, so he went with it. "It's the least I can do, for that amazing carrot cake the other week."

"Right. Sure, lead the way."

 

  


 

Connor wanted to talk again about Friday night's MNI piece, and Markus had listened to him as he'd described the details he'd noticed. He had to concentrate to keep a straight face when Connor mentioned the festival. _See, North? Told you he'd get it._

"I'm not sure what it means yet," Connor was saying. "Maybe that's where he's going to paint next? Or I'm supposed to go to it?"

"Hey, you never know. It's possible there'll be another one before then. I'm sure you'll figure it out, whatever it is."

He really hoped he'd be forgiven when all was revealed. The way Connor had been looking at him lately made Markus think he was on the right path at least, even if it was entirely plausible that North had been right and this was a stupid way to go about things. Josh had made it sound romantic, that was all, and Connor seemed to be enjoying the mystery of it so far.

"I hope so. Are you feeling any better?" Connor asked, indicating the coffee that Markus had almost finished already.

"I am, actually. Thank you for this, though it really wasn't necessary."

"Pleasure," Connor said, with the smile that was Markus' new favourite addiction. "Do you.. um, do you have plans for the rest of the day?"

"Ah. I was heading over to visit my dad for the afternoon, yes. After a shower, obviously." Markus considered what to say next, how much he should give away. Then he thought of the video Connor had shared, the mini-tour of his private space, and decided to hell with it. "He'd really like you, you know. I believe you're already a fan of his work."

"How's that?" Connor asked, looking equal parts puzzled and intrigued.

"You have a print of one of his paintings on your bedroom wall? I, uh, I saw the video."

Connor's eyes got wider, his cheeks turning bright red, and Markus started to wonder if he should have kept his mouth shut after all. "Your dad's.. Carl Manfred? You're kidding, aren't you? Are you messing with me?"

Markus shook his head, giving Connor a sheepish grin. "I know I should have said something before, I just.." He stuffed one hand into the deep pocket of his shorts. "I never know how people are going to react, so I kind of keep it to myself at first. Yeah, he's my dad." Markus chewed at his lower lip, then gave a mental shrug. Couldn't hurt, could it? "You want to go with me? I mean, I know you've probably met him at the gallery, but you haven't seen his studio. Would you like to?"

"What?" Connor blinked, looked at Sumo, then back at Markus. "I- Can I?"

"Of course you can."

"I can't bring Sumo to your dad's house, though. He's.. well, look at him."

Markus did, and Sumo stared back at him, all puppy-eyes and thick fur. He was pretty sure his dad would _adore_ the dog, but maybe another time. "Alright," Markus conceded. "Why don't you drop him at home, I'll go and shower and we can meet up at the bus stop at the east of the park in.. how long do you need?"

"Half an hour?"

"See you there, then. Thanks again for the coffee."


	5. One Too Many Coincidences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So you just.. ran into Markus. At the park. Huh."
> 
> "Don't do that," Connor protested, making Hank look at him, affronted.
> 
> "Do what?"
> 
> " _That._ 'Huh'. It was just a coincidence, that's all."

Connor almost felt like pinching himself. He knew it wasn't a date, although he also knew what his dad would say when he told him about it later. It was still blowing his mind a little bit that Markus wanted Connor to go with him on what should have been a personal visit. It really didn't help that Markus had shown up at the bus stop looking and smelling like he did. Sandalwood, Connor thought, breathing it in. Thin, pale blue shirt and Connor's favourite - on Markus - ass-hugging jeans.

The bus came to a stop again, and Markus touched Connor's forearm as he got up. "This is us," he said, and Connor was sure he could be forgiven the sudden, giddy feeling at the way Markus said 'us.'

"I still can't believe your dad is Carl Manfred," Connor said, following him off the bus. "Are you sure this is going to be okay?" he asked again. It was a _very_ nice neighbourhood, after all.

"I'm sure." They came to an impressive looking wrought iron gate, and Connor waited nervously while Markus keyed a code into the pad next to it. He pushed it open, and let Connor in ahead of him. 

"Wow," Connor breathed, looking up at the place, then back at the door as it opened.

"Good morning, Mr Manfred." The young man in the doorway gave Connor a nod as well. "Good morning." He stood aside to let the two of them in.

"Hi, Paul. This is Connor, is dad up today?"

"He's out in the garden at the moment, just let me go and tell him you're here. There's fresh lemonade in the kitchen, why don't the two of you help yourselves to a glass? Nice to meet you, Connor."

Connor smiled almost helplessly, not sure of what to say. He was feeling kind of overwhelmed at the size of the place, and awestruck by all of the artwork he could see. Most of it was Carl Manfred's own work, but there were other pieces as well. Sculptures, weird and quirky little touches here and there. He followed Markus, almost tripping over his own feet because he was so busy gawping at the huge giraffe that dominated the main of the living space. "Wow.." He was all too aware he was starting to sound like a stuck record, hoped Markus hadn't noticed.

"Yeah, dad's idea of interior decorating is probably a bit more eccentric than most people's. It's fun though, right?"

"It's definitely different." Connor looked up some more, but Markus was moving on, into the kitchen. "Can I ask you something?" 

Markus was reaching into a cabinet for some glasses, but turned to nod at Connor. "Sure, go ahead."

"I mean, I've read a profile or two on Carl Manfred, and I don't remember them mentioning a second son, so.. what happened?" Connor closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"

"No, it's okay." Markus put the glasses down, seeming to take a calming breath. Connor wished he hadn't asked, but Markus went on. "I kind of lost everything, right after my seventeenth birthday. Not that there was all that much to begin with, but.. you know. It's not exactly a sob story, being on the streets wasn't the worst thing, I mean I even made a junkyard my home for a while, and I never felt lonely there. The owner used to let me help out where I could, gave me paper and pencils so I could go out and sketch portraits for a little cash or some food. That's where Carl found me. He kept coming by, we got to talking and he offered me a job. It was just taking care of his studio at first, but then when his personal caretaker quit, I took on that role as well. So I wound up moving in to be here full-time, and we just.. became close, I guess. He legally adopted me a couple of years ago, so.." Markus smiled fondly, hearing a door open. "He's been more of a father to me than anyone else."

"Thought I could feel my ears burning," Carl said, as Paul wheeled him into the kitchen.

"Is there anything else you need, Mr Manfred?" Paul asked, and Carl shook his head. 

"I'll be fine. Go, enjoy the sun."

Connor watched the exchange, and immediately warmed even more to Carl, who seemed unsurprised to see him there. Had Markus called ahead?

"So Markus mentioned you might like to see the studio?"

He'd definitely called ahead. Connor watched Markus pouring the lemonade for a second, then nodded at Carl. "I'd love to, if it's no trouble. I know I'm no artist, but.. I really enjoy your work. Seeing where it all happens would be pretty amazing. Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. Follow me."

 

  


 

Markus hung back with Carl while Connor explored the studio some more, taking his time over looking at some of the works in progress that were propped up here and there - not all of them Carl's.

"Nice boy," Carl murmured. "Have you-"

"Not yet."

"So this isn't a date?"

Markus grinned. "Not yet. I've got a plan."

"Hmm. I'm no expert, but I'd say he's already smitten with you anyway, plan or not."

Markus watched as Connor stopped to examine one of his most recent canvases, and felt Carl's hand close over his.

"Just tread lightly, son."

"Of course." 

"This is amazing," Connor was saying, and Markus left Carl's side to go over to him. "They're all so different."

"Well.. some of them are mine," Markus admitted, figuring there was no point in not telling Connor. If he didn't, Carl probably would anyway. "Though I can be kind of a chameleon when it comes to style. I paint to suit my mood, or the setting, so."

"Wait, what?"

"I told you I liked to sketch, dad got me into painting as well. I've been doing it for about five years now. Oils, mostly." _Oils mostly, my ass._

Connor seemed stunned, and touched the edge of the canvas he'd been looking at. "This is yours," he managed to say, after a long beat. "Markus, I.. it's incredible."

"Something I worked on last week. I'd just finished up on the piano and felt inspired, I guess. Although I look at it now and I'm sure I wasn't feeling the way it looks." It was a melancholy kind of piece, Markus thought. Not too much light to it, just watery blues and greys. What had he been thinking about? It certainly wasn't a reflection of how he was feeling right now.

"Wait, you play piano as well?" Connor asked, something in his tone that Markus couldn't quite place. "How do I not know these things yet?"

"It hasn't come up before is all. You'll probably hear for yourself before we leave, Carl enjoys me playing. Can't disappoint the old man, can I?"

"You know I can hear you," Carl piped up, laughing. "Ah, what the heck. You're right, I'm old."

Connor's face lit up at the gentle banter between the two of them, a sight Markus would never tire of. He looked somehow younger when he was happy. His eyes were a warmer shade of brown, his lips were nothing short of invitation. Markus gave himself a mental shake and finished his lemonade in two quick gulps, taking Connor's empty glass off him as well. "Dad, why don't you show Connor what you're working on right now? I'll go put these in the kitchen."

 

  


 

Connor honestly couldn't figure out how his day had turned out the way it had. He gave Markus a little wave as the cab pulled away again, then fished his keys from his pocket, trying not to drop the canvas that Carl had gifted him with. It was a companion piece to the print he already had, Carl had said. Almost a reflection of it, but painted much more subtly. Connor wasted no time when he got back inside the house, and held the canvas up beside the other in his room, falling in love immediately with how well they complimented one another. He laid it down on his bed, knowing he'd hang it later, and went back through to check on Sumo. 

It was telling how much of a dream he'd been in that he hadn't noticed Hank's car out in the driveway, so it startled him when he went into the kitchen to find his dad sat at the table. 

"Oh, hey dad, I didn't.." Connor trailed off when Hank lifted his head. He looked unsettled, though there was an odd wash of relief there as well, and Connor had no idea what it meant. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Son," Hank murmured, reaching out for Connor to gently pull him into a hug.

"Dad?"

"Yeah.. Sorry, kiddo. I'm okay. Shit, I just.. Rough day."

"How come?" Connor asked, his voice sounding small and scared to his own ears. He chastised himself for it, because this wasn't his hurt. "Can you talk about it, or-"

"Nah. I mean, not yet. And it's really not something you need to hear about right now, but it's okay. It's gonna be okay, same as me. I'm alright, Connor."

"Okay." Connor tightened his arms around Hank briefly, before slowly letting go. He watched Hank's demeanour shift again, as though he was shaking off the remnants of whatever the day had left on him. Still, Connor felt a need to take care of him. Hank wasn't easily rattled, so whatever it was must have been bad.

"Have you eaten? Do you want something to drink?" He felt the look Hank gave him as he turned away to prepare some coffee, but carried on with what he was doing. They'd had enough discussions about Hank's reliance on alcohol before now, after all.

"I grabbed some lunch at work. Where were you, anyhow?"

"Uhm.."

"Oh, this is gonna be good." Hank's tone had lightened again, and Connor was glad to hear it, although a part of him wished his dad wouldn't swallow things down as much as he did. Connor hoped that when he was able, Hank would talk about it. "Well?" Hank pressed.

Connor left the coffee doing its thing and turned around to lean back against the worktop. "I ran into Markus at the park and he invited me to go visit his dad with him," Connor said, getting the words out as quickly as possible.

"Are you sure you two aren't dating?" Hank asked, staring at him.

"What? Yes, I'm sure. Anyway, the point is.. his dad is Carl Manfred."

"That artist guy? You fuckin' with me?"

"That's what I said. But no, it's true. We went to his.. _mansion_ , there's really no other word for it. I saw his studio, dad!"

" _Mansion_." Hank repeated, sounding impressed. "Ah, Connor. That's great, really. So you just.. ran into Markus. At the park. Huh."

"Don't do that," Connor protested, making Hank look at him, affronted.

"Do what?"

" _That._ 'Huh'. It was just a coincidence, that's all."

"Okay."

" _Dad._ "

Hank smiled, relenting. "I'm happy for you, kiddo. I know how much you admire the guy. And I guess it wasn't any hardship to spend the afternoon with Markus, either. Maybe you'll even believe me now when I tell you he's sweet on you?"

"I don't know about that.. Maybe. I don't know. Oh, and Mr Manfred gave me one of his paintings." 

Hank had been getting up, but paused in his movement, giving Connor another surprised stare. "Aren't those things like thousands of dollars a piece?"

"Um. Yes, I guess they are?" Connor hadn't exactly thought about it like that. He'd been stunned at the gift, and maybe on a subconscious level that was partly why, but mostly it was that he didn't feel like he'd made that much of an impression. To be given something so precious, something that was unique, and had probably taken quite some time to paint. He hoped he hadn't made too much of an idiot of himself, thanking Carl probably ninety times before he'd left. "Oh, God. Do you think I should return it?"

"Sure, if you want to insult the man, you could do that. Or you could just accept that it was a thoughtful gift and enjoy it like he probably meant for you to do." Hank rolled his eyes, smile widening. "Guess we don't need to worry about the in-laws liking you, huh? So, what are we eatin' tonight?"

 

  


 

This was it, Markus thought. The last piece he'd sign with the my name is tag, and it wasn't even one which Connor would have to go chasing to find. It was something Connor could keep for himself, which was exactly what Markus wanted. The other works would be there a while, he was sure, but someday someone would come along and paint over them. This last piece, drawn and painted on a page from his sketchbook, couldn't be taken away. 

He slipped it into the prepared envelope and printed Connor's name on the front, just as North came in from the back.

"Is that what I think it is? Is it finally happening?" She bounced once on the balls of her feet, and hugged Markus tightly for a second. "Guys!" She yelled. "Today's the day!"

Simon hurried out next, and Markus looked heavenward as Josh was quick to follow.

"Can we not do this?"

"What?" North asked, innocently. "It's exciting. Who's going to get the honours?"

Markus considered each of them in turn. "I think Josh, since he believed in this from the start. He's also the only one of you with any kind of poker face."

"Oh.. no, not me. I don't do front of house stuff, Markus."

"Well, today you do," North said, firmly. 

 

  


 

It had been almost a week again since he'd seen anything from MNI, and Connor was feeling a little down-hearted about it. But at least he had lunch at Jericho with his dad to look forward to, since it was also Hank's first Saturday off in a couple of weeks. 

He saw Markus look up and give him a smile as they entered, and evidently Hank noticed as well, because he told Connor to go have fun and he'd wait at their table. It even had a little hand-made reserved sign on it, Connor saw, and it made him laugh to himself as he neared the counter.

"Was that you?" he asked, pointing at the table.

"Maybe," Markus replied, grinning. "You told me you'd be in, I wanted to make sure you had the best seats in the house. How are you doing, Connor?"

"Good, actually. I think Dad's doing better too.. You probably saw in the news about all those arrests last week?"

Markus' eyes widened in recognition, and he looked over at where Hank was already sitting. " _That_ was the case he was working on? Wow. Is he okay?"

Connor nodded. "Yeah. I mean, he is now. And now I know why he couldn't talk about it before.." He managed to stop short of saying it had hit a bit close to home, because Markus would ask him why and he really didn't want to get into his history right now. Or really ever, if he didn't need to.

He'd kept a close eye on his dad since it had all come to light, but Hank seemed to be more worried about _him_ until they'd sat down and had a long talk about it a couple of nights ago. "He's doing okay. It helps when he knows the work he's done means something, I guess."

"I imagine it does. I'm glad he's alright, though that must have been pretty rough. I felt kind of ill just reading about it all, I can't imagine what those poor kids went through. Makes you wonder how nobody even knew they were there, doesn't it? Crazy world." Markus glanced at Hank for a second again, then looked back at Connor. "Uh, anyway.. what'll it be today?"

Connor scanned the menu behind Markus' head while he tried to calm his own thoughts down, and wondered what Hank would like best. "Oh, hmm. The hot turkey sandwich, I think?"

"Excellent choice," Markus said, with a wink. "Black coffee and I'll figure out which tea would go best with the sandwich?"

"Sounds perfect."

"And can I tempt you to a slice of this frankly unbelievable chocolate raspberry cake to follow?" Markus asked.

Connor laughed, knowing he was starting to blush. "Of course."

"Great. So the drinks'll be right out, and I'll go crack the whip in the kitchen on the food."

"Thanks, Markus." 

Connor was still smiling happily when he sat down opposite Hank.

"I'm gonna ask one more time: are you sure you're not already boyfriends?"

"Funny, dad. He's just being friendly, that's all." Connor tried not to let any hint of disappointment into his voice about that. Sometimes he hated how persistent Hank was when he got an idea in his head. Sure, it served him well at the DPD, but it was incredibly annoying otherwise.

"You're right. I'm sure he looks at all of his friends like that."

"Probably," Connor said, sitting back in his seat. Not just so that he could see Markus better, though that was certainly an advantage. Hank just shook his head and fiddled with the salt shaker.

"So what's lunch, anyhow?"

"Turkey sandwich."

"Just turkey, none of that greenery?"

"Yes, dad. Just turkey. I'm pretty sure Markus knows by now not to bother with a side salad for you."

"Good. You make me eat enough of that stuff at home, God knows I don't need it when I'm out."

It had been a meaningful victory for Connor, the improvement of Hank's diet. It made his dad healthier, which meant he slept better and was easier to get along with. And Connor hoped to be getting along with him for quite a few years yet.

To Connor's surprise it was Josh who brought their drinks out, though when he looked he could see Markus already busy with another order.

"Hey, Josh."

"Connor, good to see you. And-"

"Hank," Hank offered. 

"Right, that's right, of course. Sorry, everyone's super busy, but hey. I made it over here without spilling a drop. So, one coffee, one tea. And this was left for Connor. It just kind of showed up, but see? Connor Anderson, right there on the.. Yeah. Okay." Josh handed Connor an envelope, tucked the empty tray under his arm and nodded at the both of them. "Well, I'll leave you to it."

"What the hell was that all about?" Hank wondered aloud, while Connor turned the envelope over in his hands.

"I have no idea." Connor was just as confused - who would leave something for him here? Unless.. 

"You gonna open it or just stare at it, kiddo?"

"Um. Yeah, of course." Connor pulled at the tab, running his finger along the top to tear it open. He upended it to tip the contents onto the empty part of the table, careful of the drinks. There was a piece of thick paper in there, slightly smaller than the envelope, and something else which looked like a ticket. Baffled, Connor picked that up first. "What the.."

"What? What is it?"

"It's a ticket for the RiverDays festival. Valid for the whole thing? I don't.." Connor put that to one side, and turned over the paper. "Oh.. Oh my god."

"Connor?" Hank prompted, impatiently.

Connor looked up and around at the other tables, as if there'd be some clue about who'd left the envelope for him. He saw families, a few students (possible, he supposed) and an elderly couple. But nobody he saw seemed like they were scoping him out in return, checking for his reaction. 

"It's from that artist. The one my last few videos were about. That painting the other week, it was telling me about the festival and now.. now this?"

"Now _what_?" Hank asked, sounding exasperated.

"I think he wants me to go to the festival. To meet him." Connor looked at the small painting again. A figure astride a motorcycle - so Connor definitely needed to be there on bike night, which was Friday - and a sand sculpture of a ship behind him. The figure was holding a pale lilac rose, just like the one from two of his other works, and it was the one splash of colour in a painting that was mostly blue hues on one half, green on the other. It was signed at the bottom with a time - 7pm - and _my name is_ , so there was no mistaking who it was from. 

"Connor, you're not seriously considering going, are you?"

"Why not? Look at this, it's beautiful."

"So are a lot of things, doesn't mean you can trust 'em. What do you even know about this guy, really?"

Connor sighed loudly, still staring at the painting. "Not as much as I'd like to, that's the point. Why don't you come with me if it makes you feel better?"

Hank huffed out a breath, taking the painting out of Connor's hands to look at it for himself. "Maybe I will."

"Okay, then."

"What do you think he wants, though? And what are you planning on telling Markus?"

Connor felt heat creeping down his neck at the mention of Markus' name. "Why do I need to tell Markus about it?"

"I mean, it's just this.. with the rose and all this leaving tickets and stuff for you at this place? I doubt the guy just wants to be pals, Connor."

"Maybe you're right, but I think that's all Markus wants to be. So what's the harm in going along? I'd like to know who's behind what I've been talking about for the past month."

"Fine. Alright. Alright, but I _am_ going with you. You can never be too careful. Could be one of those.. what did you call 'em? Rabid fans?" Hank looked at the painting again, and got that look on his face that he sometimes got when he was working a case. Connor couldn't bring himself to ask what it was he'd seen. He was going to the festival, one way or another, and he was going to find out who his artist was.

 

  


 

Connor had the painting propped against the lamp on his desk, and had spent every moment he wasn't doing something else staring at it. Friday had finally arrived, and he'd taken the day off work because he knew he'd be a nervous wreck all day. So he had several hours to kill, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do with them. He'd been out in the morning with Sumo to tour all of the paintings with his camera and take new pictures of them. Fresh angles might help, he'd thought. They were spread out across his desk now, and Sumo was watching from the nest he'd made of Connor's thin quilt.

He was trying to concentrate, to put together the clues again and see if anything new came out of them, but something kept drawing him back to the very last painting. The invitation. He hadn't made a video about it, and he wasn't sure why except that it felt far too personal. There was also something in it that he was missing, he knew there was. 

"Chrissake, Connor, why is that dog on your.. never mind, forget I asked." Hank pushed the door open further, stepping into Connor's room. "What's going on, kiddo?"

"I'm not sure." 

"Somethin' I can help you out with?"

Connor looked over his shoulder at Hank, and after a moment's speculation, gave him a nod. Hank was a detective after all, maybe he'd have some insight. He got up to give Hank the seat, and perched on the one clear part of his desk.

"You ever find out who was sending you those messages?"

"There's nothing to go on besides the username, so no. It was either my name is himself, or someone close to him. I mean, the message about the Jericho painting came through while it was still drying, so whoever it was had to have been there."

Hank hmmed, picking up a couple of the photos to examine more closely. He was silent for a while, going over them all. Connor was happy to watch him, always had loved watching him work. He tried to see whatever Hank was seeing, but still kept returning to the small painting. The one that was clearly meant for his eyes only.

"Did you ever consider.." Hank finally began. "I mean, with this painting of you at Jericho of all places, being on its back wall.. and that envelope showing up at our table.. don't you think it's kinda coincidental?"

"What do you mean?" Connor asked, thumbing the edge of the desk. 

"Connor, look at me."

"He would have told me," Connor mumbled, watching Hank pick up the smaller painting.

"So you _have_ thought about it. Connor, I've seen a motorcycle parked outside or near that place every time we've been in since he started working there. His dad's an artist. So's he, forgodssake! It's not that far out of the realm of possibility, is it? In fact I'd say it's _very_ possible that he's exactly the guy you're looking for, in every way."

"But he-"

"He's one hundred per cent a boy in love. You think 'cause I've got thirty years on you I don't know shit?"

Connor blinked a few times, surprised. "No, no I don't think that."

"Good. So?"

"So what?"

Hank gave Connor an almost weary look. "So.. what are you gonna do about it?"

"In love?" Connor asked, voice small. "He can't be. Dad, how can.. why didn't he- why would he not tell me?" Connor groaned. "I've made a complete fool out of myself in front of him and.. he just let me do it. Why would he do that if he.." _Love?_ Connor wasn't sure he could believe that.

"Hey. Son." Hank took Connor's hand in his own, such a rare thing that Connor found himself holding his breath, wondering what was coming next. "You can either take this as the grand but kinda misguided romantic gesture that I'm assuming it was meant to be, or you can stay at home tonight wonderin' what might've happened because you feel like.. what, he deceived you somehow?"

"I don't know," Connor whispered, fighting the rising tightness in his throat.

"You ever flat out ask him if he was your artist?"

"Of course not."

"So then he never flat out lied to you either, did he?"

Connor thought about that. No, Markus hadn't lied. In fact he'd given Connor far more truths than he'd received in return. "Why do you want this so much?"

Hank looked up at Connor, curious. "Why don't you?"

"I _do._ I do, I just.. He doesn't even know everything yet."

Hank squeezed Connor's hand lightly, pushing the seat back so he could get up and hug Connor to his chest. "He knows enough, son, and maybe I'm biased but _I_ know everything, and I love you just the same. Why can't he?" Connor lifted one shoulder again, making Hank sigh. "Tell me what you want to do."

Connor thought of Markus, of his easy smile and articulate hands, of the dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose, of those eyes.. His _eyes._ "I'm an idiot," he murmured, pulling out of Hank's embrace to look at the painting again. "Shit, I'm so stupid." Half blue, half green. "How did I not-"

"You're not an idiot. You just.. I don't know, weren't looking for someone who was already right in front of you, I guess? Connor?"

Right. What was he going to do?

"Can I have a little time?"

Hank gave him a calculating look for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure. I've gotta take Sumo out before we head to the festival anyway. If you still want to go?"

Connor nodded, smiling even as he wiped a few traitorous tears from his eyes. "I do."

 

  


 

_ResonantKarma800 has uploaded a new video - watch now!_

Markus stared at the notification, the butterflies that had been in his stomach ever since North let him leave work an hour ago suddenly turning into a monsoon. Why was Connor posting a video now?

Opening it up, Markus saw that Connor was sitting at his desk again. He set the video to full-screen so as not to be tempted to scroll to any comments, and let it play.

"So, hey. I know I haven't posted anything for several days, but I've been kind of.. preoccupied, I guess. But here I am, and I have some pretty exciting news to share with you all. Tonight I'm finally going to meet the artist known as my name is." There was a sheen to Connor's eyes, Markus noticed, bringing out that fiery amber halo in the most devastating way.

"And I think.. I think I know your name." 

Markus wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh, cry, or throw up. Of course Connor knew. That had been the whole point, hadn't it? It's what Carl had said to him at the beginning, after all. _Show him who you are._

"I hope I do. I hope I'm right," Connor continued. "I think I get why you didn't tell me, too. I wanted to be mad at you for that, but I can't find it in me.. I guess there was this voice telling me all along that I knew, and I just didn't hear it because.." Connor glanced down, then looked straight at the camera again. "I don't think I believe in myself half as much as you do. So, I get it. Anyway.. guys, that's all from me for now. I have a festival to get to." He waved, still smiling. "See you there."


	6. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Connor." Hank said, equal parts firm and gentle. "As much as I might want to, I can't hold your hand on this one. I won't be far away, but you've gotta do this."
> 
> Connor took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a few beats. "Okay."
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **{ Also, what's that? A chapter 7? Yes, I'm adding a little bonus chapter after this. Please also see updated tags! Thanks also for the lovely comments. It's been overwhelming for me :) }**

"Are you gonna be okay, kiddo?"

"I'll call if I need to."

"Pretty crowded out there," Hank noted, giving Connor a quick, calculating glance. "Alright. At least you're ninety nine per cent sure who you're lookin' for, I guess. Shouldn't be too hard to find."

Connor hoped his dad was right. There were a _lot_ of people there, and they'd already been passed by dozens of bikes.

"Should I-"

"Connor." Hank said, equal parts firm and gentle. "As much as I might want to, I can't hold your hand on this one. I won't be far away, but you've gotta do this."

Connor took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a few beats. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. I'm going. I'll.. see you later."

"You're an adult, you can see me later or in the morning. Either way." 

Connor swallowed at the implications of _that_ , but shook his head at Hank's grin, and opened his door to get out. It was as noisy as he'd anticipated it would be, but the nerves about the crowds were nothing compared to those about who he was going to meet. He'd looked up where the sand sculptures were supposed to be, so he knew more or less which direction to head in.

 

  


 

Okay, so the sculpture Markus was standing in front of wasn't a ship, and his bike was parked more than a mile away, but he did at least have in his hand a single lilac rose. He checked his watch again. Five past. Connor had said he was coming though, so Markus stayed where he was and scanned the crowds again.

And.. there he was. Looking lost, a little overwhelmed, and just as nervous as Markus was feeling. He watched Connor do his own quick sweep, saw the way he froze when his eyes found Markus. Just for a moment though, before he came closer. _Well, at least he's not running away in the other direction_ , Markus thought, relieved.

"Hi?" Markus managed to say, with a hopeful half-smile. He held out the rose, invitation for Connor to close the distance still between them. Connor gave a little shake of his head; presumably it was at himself, because he came in, fingers closing carefully around the rose's stem.

"I.. was starting to worry it wouldn't be you," Connor admitted, his voice so soft that Markus had to lean closer to hear him over the noise of the festival. 

"Can you forgive me?" Markus had to ask that first. He'd convinced himself that he would understand if Connor told him right then and there what an asshole he was and that he never wanted to see him again. Even if it would hurt like hell.

Connor smiled as he nodded, his eyes looking a little watery. 

Markus hoped he was being honest about that. He hoped they were good tears, though still felt guilty about being the cause of them. "I'm glad you came."

"I almost changed my mind.. I just.. I know there was a reason why you did what you did, and I felt like.. kind of an idiot at first about it. But I get it. I just wonder why you didn't ask me out at Jericho? Wouldn't it have been easier?" Connor asked.

Markus nodded, knowing Connor was right. He should have, probably. "I guess I believe that good things come to those who wait. I know it was an.. unorthodox way of going about things. And I'm sorry for misleading you." Markus saw Connor open his mouth to protest, and shook his head. "No, I am. You know, I started falling for you the moment you called my art derivative-"

Connor groaned, trying to hide his face, but Markus caught his hand in a gentle hold and grinned at him.

"You were right, Connor."

"I'm still sorry I said that." 

"I'm not. It made me tell my friends all about you, and your videos, and actually I'm pretty sure it's why North offered me a job at Jericho. I think they've been rooting for us the longest," Markus said, with a fond smile. "I'm glad she did. It's how I got to know you better, how I was able to introduce myself to you without all that awkwardness there usually is on a first date." Markus grinned with a soft blush of his own. "Then the more I knew, the more I _wanted_ to know."

Connor was staring shyly at Markus' hand around his own, swallowing and looking like he wanted to say something, so Markus tucked his curled thumb and forefinger beneath Connor's jaw and lifted.

"What is it?"

Connor met his gaze head-on, though he shrugged in response to Markus' question. "I just.. I've never been someone people fall for. So it's all.. It's a lot. I mean, I know there are all those people who say stuff to my videos, but that's not.. It's not the same thing. You know me, and you still.. You still _want_ me. I guess that I can accept that even if I don't quite understand it. I mean.. You do want me, don't you? That is why we're here, isn't it?" Connor smiled, lashes dropping when Markus straightened out his thumb and stroked it along the line of Connor's jaw. "Markus?"

"You are someone people fall for, Connor. Maybe you don't think you were before, but trust me when I tell you now that you are. Every day, every time I think of your smile or the sound of your voice." Markus caught his lip with his teeth before he just carried on and said he wanted to see Connor's smile every single day from now on. He didn't want to scare Connor off, after all. Instead he took a breath and asked, "is it okay if I kiss you?"

 

  


 

Connor almost wished he'd been recording this moment somehow. Markus was so _close_ , and the words he was saying were wrapping Connor up in a dreamlike warmth with how genuine they were. The only person to ever be this honest with him before was Hank. He felt safe, he felt known - Markus might not have heard every last detail of his history yet, but Connor felt like even those hurts would melt away into memory. Not forgotten, just.. no longer of any importance.

Then Markus asked that, and Connor wanted to say _no, no, say that again? Ask me again, just like that. Do you even realize how perfect those words were?_ But all he could do was nod, and try to keep his grip on the rose even as Markus' hand curved around to the back of his head and made his whole body go weak.

"Wait.." And Markus stilled, a hint of worry in his eyes. "The.. the way you painted me," Connor began, but stopped again when Markus shook his head.

"The way I painted you was honest. That's all there was to it. I don't know who it was who told you that you're anything less than beautiful, I really don't. They were wrong, Connor."

"Beautiful?" Connor echoed, his heartbeat like a tidal wave pounding in his ears because Markus was so _close_.

Markus made an affirmative sound even as he pressed his mouth to Connor's lips. So, so gently at first, and Connor wanted to tell him it was okay, but he also didn't want to lose how that felt. So he just grabbed the front of Markus' shirt instead and pushed up onto his toes to be closer still. Markus responded with the curling of his other hand around Connor's jaw, the firmer press of his lips until Connor parted his. And Markus was smiling, Connor could feel it.

He kissed with heat, with what Connor _knew_ was a restrained want, his tongue a welcome warmth where it moved over Connor's. His hands weren't idle, either. Where Connor simply held onto Markus' shirt, Markus couldn't seem to decide where he wanted to touch Connor more. The hand in his hair came to a loose grip of his nape, the one at his jaw dropped to his shoulder, moved slowly down his arm, past t-shirt sleeve to bare skin, where fingertips and blunt nails seemed to ignite every last nerve. Connor shivered, quietly rolling back on his feet. Markus followed at first, then let him down, chasing the kiss for a few seconds more before he grinned almost sheepishly, his hand leaving Connor's arm to touch his cheek.

"That was-" Connor was bumped into Markus as a group of people passed them by, and he couldn't help but laugh. 

"Okay, this.. is not ideal," Markus said, taking a look around for a potential quieter spot. 

"I'm sorry."

Markus' gaze came swiftly back to Connor, and he leaned in for another, much briefer kiss then spoke softly, close to Connor's lips. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry about." Thumb stroking Connor's chin, Markus smiled, looking a little lost. Almost vulnerable, Connor thought. "Why don't we go somewhere.. away from here? Was there a particular stage you wanted to check out tonight?"

Connor had to repeat that question back to himself in his head, because he really couldn't think with the echoes of Markus' kisses still present on his lips. "Stage?"

"Or something else? Hungry?"

"Yes," Connor said, still trying to catch up. Honestly, he didn't care that they were stood right in the natural path that people were trying to take. He just wanted Markus to keep kissing him like that, like he needed it to matter, and like Connor was the most important thing in the world to him right then. "I mean no, I'm not hungry. I ate before I came out, it's okay. Just, maybe someplace quieter?" Connor suggested. 

"Someplace.. quieter," Markus repeated, evidently thinking. 

"It doesn't have to be. I'm sorry, I know you went to all of this trouble, the tickets and-"

"Connor, it's okay." Markus smiled. "This festival wasn't the most important part of tonight, after all. I'm still kind of surprised that you came, knowing or at least suspecting who was waiting for you. And that you're still here, if I'm honest about it."

Connor blushed, pressing his cheek into Markus' palm. "Of course I did," he whispered. _Wasn't I obvious from the first time we met?_ "And I'm not going anywhere."

"So, someplace quieter. Possibly an impossible ask, but I'll see what I can do."

 

  


 

Connor had looked dubious when Markus had taken him back to where his bike was parked. He had a spare helmet, brought it mostly as a just-in-case, and he gave it to Connor to put on, after assuring him it was safe and they weren't going too far. There was a place further along the river, outside of the festival's boundaries, and Markus was sure they'd have a bit more peace and privacy there. Sure enough, it looked almost deserted when Markus parked his bike again.

Connor started to apologize again for their leaving. "We can head back there soon and catch some of the music, I just-"

"You don't need to explain," Markus said, setting his helmet on the bike's seat and taking Connor's from him to do the same. He couldn't help his grin when he looked back, and reached to run his fingers through Connor's hair, which was - for once - sticking up in a few different directions. It made him wonder if that was what Connor's bedhead looked like as well, but he sensibly decided not to voice the thought. "I have a weekend ticket as well, we can come back tomorrow when we have time or all day Sunday to enjoy the music. If you want.. If you still want."

Connor nodded, reaching to tuck the rose he'd mostly crushed between his body and Markus' on the bike into the visor of his helmet.

"Something you need both hands for, Connor?" Markus asked, then immediately wondered why his brain to mouth filter hadn't caught _that_.

"You tell me," Connor replied, though he was blushing profusely as he did. "Oh, God, I don't know why I said-"

"Relax. It's just me. So.. obviously my name is Markus."

Connor laughed, shaking his head. "Obviously."

"I've actually been biting my tongue for a few weeks with wanting to ask you out, but.. I don't know, after that kiss back there? Do I need to ask a question I think I already know the answer to?"

"That's a little presumptuous isn't it?" Connor asked, with a sweetly mischievous half-smile.

Markus folded his arms over his chest. "You tell me," he teased, deadpan.

"I mean.. I guess it was pretty nice. I may need to do more research to make a proper-" Connor actually squeaked as Markus pulled him in again, and that'd be something he'd bring up later. Maybe. If he could go long enough without wanting to have Connor's mouth under his own. 

"Mm. You were saying?"

"I was saying I wouldn't be averse to seeing you again after tonight. But we're still here now so.. Maybe a walk?" Connor suggested, giving Markus an almost coy glance. "Something to drink after?"

"Well, Jericho's closed, but.." Markus hesitated, then decided _why not?_ It wasn't like they were new to each other. Connor knew him, and if his coming here tonight was any indication, trusted him as well. "I have a decent selection at home. I completely understand if you don't want to, and it's not an offer that comes with any expectations attached-"

"That sounds good," Connor said, surprising him.

"Sure?"

"Positive. After a walk, though?"

"Of course."

Markus was surprised again when Connor reached for his hand, linking their fingers together.

"Is it okay?" Connor asked, quietly.

"Totally okay." Markus heard Connor's relieved little sigh, and smiled to himself as they set off along the riverside. He could still hear the muted sounds of music from further along, and as much as he'd intended for them to stay there and enjoy the festival, this was better. 

"I keep waiting to wake up," Connor confessed. "You're stunning as well, I should have told you that before. I'm.. not very good at this, am I?"

"Are you kidding? You're perfect, Connor. I'm just happy you didn't punch me when you saw me."

Connor laughed, tightening his grip on Markus' hand. "Me too. I still wasn't really sure what I was going to do. But.. I mean, like I said. I hoped it was going to be you." Connor fell silent, seeming to be mulling something over. "Was it you who sent me the messages?"

"Oh.. No, that was Simon. Well, all except that last one at least. You know there was one time he didn't even let me leave before he got you there."

"You're joking!"

Markus shook his head, still chuckling at the memory. Even if it hadn't amused him so much at the time. "I had to almost do a dumpster-dive so you wouldn't see me. Which.. again, maybe not my wisest course of action, but I wasn't ready to reveal myself at that point. I don't know, it had to be just right I guess?"

Connor nodded, understanding. "I felt like such an idiot when I figured it all out. I mean, you gave me so many clues, but.. I was convinced it had to be someone who didn't.. Who didn't know me. Even after the portrait." Connor closed his eyes, remembering the night he'd gone to look at that particular painting for comfort, after that disastrous date with Gavin. How Markus had held him and how that had been even better than the painting. He should have known then, shouldn't he?"

"I'm really sorry for that," Markus said, lifting Connor's hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. "I guess I had this idea in my head that it would be better to let you work it out on your own."

"The grand romantic gesture," Connor murmured, then at the questioning look Markus gave him, added "something my dad said."

"He was right. That's what I was aiming for. 'A love story for our time', Josh called it." Markus chuckled, pulling Connor with him towards the rail at the water's edge. "Mostly I just like the difficult route. The harder I have to work for something, the greater the reward. And I think I've hit the jackpot with you."

Connor groaned; Markus couldn't blame him for that.

"Too corny?" Markus asked, grinning.

"A little."

"Too bad. By the way, it's been more than twenty minutes since I last kissed you, and that's twenty minutes too long, so.."

 

  


 

Markus had a point. Connor wasn't sure he'd ever tire of kissing him, because every one so far had been different. This one had less urgency to it, was soft enough to send sweet, quick shivers down Connor's spine. Markus hadn't let go of his hand either, and that point of contact was a constant undercurrent to everything else. The sound of Markus breathing, the way it shallowed the longer they kissed, the heat of his skin. 

Connor had never known anything like it, and that was really something he needed to tell Markus.

The last of the kisses stuttered out into smaller ones which Markus peppered along Connor's cheekbone, making him squirm, ticklish. Markus stopped, grinning into Connor's skin.

"Interesting.."

"Markus?"

Connor felt Markus pull back and so he did the same, though he kept hold where his hands were buried once again in Markus' shirt.

"What is it?" Markus asked, concern etched into his features. Connor started to think maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut. What if he told Markus everything and ruined it all? It wasn't too late to make something else up. But the way Markus was with him made him want to be honest, and he told himself he could trust Markus with it, just like he trusted Hank. He didn't delve too deeply into why, not yet. 

"I've got to tell you something, and.. can we.."

"How about that tea?" Markus asked, seeming to sense that Connor wasn't sure how to ask, or where to begin. 

 

  


 

"You're a lot like Carl, aren't you?"

Markus looked over from where he was stood pouring the tea, watched Connor continue his exploration of the artwork on the walls, on easels, on his worktable. "How's that?"

"All this open space. Neither of you like walls, do you?"

"Only to paint on," Markus replied, with a grin. 

Connor smiled back, but it was edged with worry. Markus picked up the two mugs and carried them to the coffee table, hoping he could help ease some of Connor's fears away. "Hey, come sit with me?"

Connor did, but there was a definite weight on him now, and Markus noticed his eyes kept darting up to the door. He passed Connor one of the mugs, watched him cradle it in both hands, swallowing a few times before he spoke.

"Do you remember anything about Elijah Kamski?"

"I've heard the name before, I think. Years ago, why?" Markus had a vague recollection of a pretty unpleasant story being in the news associated with that name. He had the feeling he'd put most of the details of it out of his mind, found the whole thing too disturbing.

"He's my.." Connor's jaw set, and he stared at his tea. "He's my father. My biological father."

 _Wait, what?_ "You're-"

"I'm Hank's son. To Elijah I was just an experiment." Connor scratched his thumbnail against the side of his mug, then reached to put it back on the table, untouched. He turned a fraction, but he was still sort of shrunk into himself, so Markus didn't try to touch him. "I'm not half as broken as I was when I went to live with Hank," Connor went on. He gave Markus a wary, barely-there smile. "Time heals some wounds, I guess. Not all of them, though, and that's.. it's what I need you to know."

"Okay," Markus said. "You can tell me, it's okay. I'm staying right here."

Connor closed his eyes with a small nod. "I have this need to be told that what I'm doing is good, and I guess it's because nothing I did was ever good enough for him. Too emotional, asked too many questions, didn't turn out quite as expected. I was just a kid, trying to figure the world out for myself, except that my world was narrow and existed only where he allowed it, and in the end it wasn't enough. _I_ wasn't enough. Not particularly gifted, not receptive to his ideals, and then to top it all off.." Connor took a shuddering breath, and Markus quietly offered his hand, palm up. He watched Connor lay his own on top of it, and curled his thumb in just enough to reiterate that he wasn't going anywhere.

"I just wanted to be loved, and it took me a long time to realise that wasn't something he'd ever be capable of, not in the ways I needed."

Markus knew there was something more to those words, and he could hazard a guess at what it was. Hoped he was wrong, even as it stirred a rage in him that he _had_ to swallow down, because there was no place for it to go and it would do Connor no good to see it. He gave Connor's hand a light stroke, reassuring.

"I'm glad that you have Hank now. I can tell that he loves you. A great deal, from what I've seen."

Connor smiled at that - a real smile - and nodded. "He really does. He's spent a long time undoing as much of the damage Elijah did as he can. He's taught me exactly what a father should be. I would never have survived without him."

Markus heard the implication there, and tightened his grip on Connor's hand. He wasn't going to ask; Connor would tell him when he needed to. "I'm sorry you had to go through any of that, Connor. I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me, too."

"I do. I.. I feel safe with you." Connor sighed, leaning into Markus' side. "I know that Elijah never really wanted a son. What he wanted doesn't exist, I don't think. There are times even now when I feel less than perfect or whole. Defective, like I'm not trying hard enough to be what I should be."

Markus inhaled sharply, wanting to say something to that, but Connor must have heard it because he quickly went on. "It doesn't happen as often as it used to. Even less since that painting. Maybe it's narcissistic of me to say it, but you opened my eyes quite a lot. I had no idea anyone but Hank could see me that way. As more than just a research subject. Something.. human. Someone who could be.." Connor paused then, apparently struggling with what would be the right word to say. 

_You can be desired, you can be loved. You **are** loved,_ Markus wanted to tell him.

"I haven't had a relationship like this before. Nothing like this, nobody like you."

 _Shit, I should hope not,_ Markus almost said. He just squeezed Connor's hand instead. 

"I don't want to mess it up, Markus." 

Connor fell quiet then, and Markus lifted his hand, kissed Connor's knuckles. "Carl told me once to never let anyone else tell you what you should be. You are who _you_ decide to be. And who you are is everything I've fallen for since I first saw you."

Markus stilled as Connor leaned away to look at him. "Hank said more or less the same thing to me. You're.. For me? Really?"

Smiling, Markus nodded. "The whole nine yards, Connor. And I'll tell you that every single day if I need to. You have to know how special you are to me."

Connor seemed at a loss for words, but the silence between them was broken by a buzzing from his pocket. "Shit, that's my dad. Sorry." He lifted his hips, digging his phone from his back pocket. "I told him I'd text him. He worries. I'd better do that before he has the entire DPD out looking for me."

"Then yes, text him. I don't particularly want to wind up in jail tonight," Markus told him, with an amused grin.

Connor shook his head, and Markus released his hand so that he had both free to use his phone. He reached for his tea while Connor did that, and took a few swallows. "What did you tell him?" he asked, when Connor put his phone on the table and grabbed his own mug.

He wasn't expecting the shy smile and the reply that came. "I told him I'd see him tomorrow. If.. if that's alright?"

Markus couldn't stop the thought that his bed was barely made, laptop abandoned on the sheets, really not in any fit state for someone to sleep on yet. Neither could he contain his surprise at Connor's answer. "Are you sure?"

"Not because I want.. I mean, I _do_ want to sleep with you. At some point. Just not tonight, not yet?" Connor was blushing hard again, not meeting Markus' eyes. "But I like you kissing me so I'd like to do that a lot more. That's okay, isn't it?"

Markus nodded, rubbing his thumb over the back of Connor's hand. "Of course it's okay. I'll sleep on the couch, but I'll have to clear off my bed for you if-"

"Just for me?" Connor asked. "I sort of thought.. well, if you don't want to. I mean, if it's too hard-" Connor bit his lip, somehow turning redder at his slip. "I mean if it's too _difficult_."

Markus couldn't keep his grin at bay. "Difficult? Not at all. Believe it or not, I have enough restraint to keep my hands to myself."

"I hope not entirely," Connor said, though he tried to hide the words behind another sip of tea. 

 

  


 

Connor woke up sweating, Markus warm and close behind him, forearm a pleasant weight over Connor's hip. It felt good, but-

"You're really hot," Connor mumbled, kicking at the sheets that were loosely wrapped around his bare legs.

"Hmm?" Markus kissed the back of Connor's shoulder, squeezing his hip. "You're really squirmy."

"Too hot," Connor complained again. 

"Mm. Forgot to turn the fan on last night. Hang on." Connor rolled onto his back when Markus let go of him, felt the sheets slide off his legs with Markus' movement. A low buzzing started and Connor looked up to see a fan above them start whirring around. "Better?" Markus asked, as the air began to cool.

"Yes." Connor turned his head when Markus settled back beside him. He felt the corner of his mouth turn up, thinking about Markus' lips and every place they'd kissed him. He shuffled onto his side and touched the tips of his fingers to them briefly, lashes lowering. 

"You're so beautiful, I don't think I'll ever get tired of painting you," Markus whispered, his breath drifting into Connor's palm like feathers, bringing a sound half-sigh half-groan out of him. "Oh?"

"Sorry," Connor murmured, thoroughly embarrassed because Markus' mouth on or near his fingers was apparently a huge turn-on for him. That and the things he said, which were.. Honestly, Connor never believed anyone really said those kinds of things, and especially not to him, but Markus was something else entirely, wasn't he? 

"Why?"

"Because you know what you're doing?"

"You mean I have experience. I guess I do, but it's not what's important. We're in this together now, Connor. We'll figure it all out together too. Everything you told me last night.. Is it weird that I feel honoured you shared that with me? I can tell how much it took for you to do that, and how much trust, too. I want to spend every day showing you just how amazing I think you are. That's all I want, Connor, is to make you happy."

"I _am_ happy," Connor said, shifting closer so that he could reach Markus' mouth. They were mid-kiss when Markus made a slightly frantic sound and pulled back. Connor was about to ask what was wrong when Markus sat up and looked over his shoulder at something.

"Crap. Crap, crap, I'm late."

"Late?" _Oh._ "Oh, God, I'm sorry-" The rest was muffled under another swift, deep kiss.

"I'm absolutely not sorry at all. But I really do need to get up and go to work. Come with me? I'll get you some breakfast, I'm not letting you go home hungry."

 

  


 

Hank came to the lounge doorway while Connor was still in the hall, taking off his shoes. 

"Well, look what the cat dragged in."

" _Dad_." Connor knew he'd been a while at Jericho. Markus had, thankfully, taken the brunt of the teasing from his friends, but underneath all of that they'd seemed to be genuinely happy for him. For them both, and that had been an unexpected, pleasant feeling. They were his friends as well now, he'd come to realise.

"What? I'm happy for you, son. So I guess you're seeing him again?"

Connor nodded, putting his shoes neatly on the rack. "Tonight," he said, starting to head for his room. 

"To _night._ Keen, huh? You want me to run a check on this one, make sure he's all good?"

"He's good, dad."

"He must be, it's almost lunchtime already."

Connor groaned into his hands, trying to wipe the blush off his cheeks. "I don't mean like that."

"Hmm. Alright, alright. So you're seeing him again tonight, huh? I guess that puts the wedding sometime around.. what, August?" Hank asked, grinning.

"Jesus, dad." 

Hank just caught Connor up into a hug before he could disappear into his room. "I'm happy for you, kiddo, okay? Markus seems like a real nice boy, and you deserve the best."

"Okay," Connor mumbled.

"I'm serious."

" _Okay_ , dad. And yes, he is. But I really need to shower." Markus had given him a clean shirt to put on, but Connor still felt like he needed to freshen up.

"Alright. See? I can behave. I'm not even gonna ask why you need a shower so bad."

" _Dad!_ "

 

  


 

Connor arrived at Jericho just as Simon, Josh and North were leaving, though North stopped to wrap her arms around him and tell him again how happy she was for them. "You two apparently inspired these idiots to come out of the closet as well," she added, looking over at Simon and Josh, who were grinning.

"Uh, North? Simon's never been _in_ the closet," Josh told her, already starting to chuckle. "I don't think he even knows where it is?"

"Laugh it up, guys," Simon muttered. "Go on in Connor, Markus is waiting."

Connor heard Simon asking North when she was going to share _her_ boyfriend with them as the three of them walked away. He pushed open the door, hearing her faint but indignant response.

Markus was already moving the tables away from the back wall, but paused to say hello to Connor and kiss him hungrily, arm slung around his waist. "Mm. Missed you."

"Since this morning?" Connor asked, pulling Markus back to him when he tried to step away again. _Wait, I'm not done kissing you._

Markus brushed their lips together, grinning. "Since this morning. Did you bring it?"

"I did. So.. Do you know what you're doing yet?"

"I have a pretty good idea, yes. Help me stack these chairs?"

"Sure." Connor slipped the bag he'd brought with him off his shoulder and deposited it on one of the tables before moving to help.

Once the space was clear, Markus fetched a box through from the cloakroom. "North's been wanting me to paint in here for a while now, but.. I kind of thought that would give the game away, you coming in and seeing something I'd done."

"Maybe." Connor watched Markus take out various bottles and cans with interest. "On the other hand, I was usually so busy looking at you, I might not have noticed. We both know how utterly oblivious I was."

Markus was smiling, Connor could see it though he was still studiously sorting the paints.

"Alright, charmer. Ready."

"Right." Connor opened his bag up and took out his camera, setting it up on a mini tripod on the table. He checked the frame and made a few adjustments, then hit record before he reached for Markus' hand and pulled him into frame. "Hey guys, Connor here with another episode of Decorated Detroit, and the last my name is artwork that I'll be showcasing on this channel." Connor looked up at Markus with a grin. "Probably. Maybe. I guess we'll see. Uh, you're probably wondering who this beautiful man right here is, so let me introduce you all. You can say hi, y'know," Connor whispered, nudging him gently.

"Hi, y'know." Markus chuckled at Connor's patient little sigh. 

"Beautiful and funny, or so he thinks. Anyway, I'm sure you've all figured it out already, which makes you smarter than I was-"

"Hey," Markus protested.

"Well, tonight we're doing something just a little bit different. Tonight we get to watch the artist at work. Nervous?" Connor asked.

"I mean, usually my audience is limited to Simon and a rat or two, so this is new for me. But no, not nervous."

"I'm not.. even touching that rat thing. Okay. So why don't you talk us through some of the equipment and techniques you use?"

"Sure thing."

"And for everyone watching?" Connor prompted.

"Right." Markus grinned. "My name.. is Markus."


	7. In A Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of events over a year in Markus' and Connor's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This.. I don't know. I'm not even sure it was worth writing and I'm hopeless with ending things but there's a bit of everything in here. Copious amounts of fluff, though. Sorry it took me *forever*. Maybe someone's still excited about it? :)

**JULY**

"We should have seen this coming," Markus sighed, slowly combing his fingers through Connor's hair. There was paint in it, but he didn't seem to care, since there was paint pretty much all over both of them at this point. They were sitting on the floor with their backs to the couch, Connor curled into Markus' side.

"You definitely started it this time."

Markus laughed, pulling Connor's head against his shoulder so that he could kiss soft hair instead, and the sensitive spot behind Connor's ear. "Sorry not sorry that the sight of me painting gets you in the mood."

"Unfair advantage," Connor grumbled, closing his eyes to nuzzle in some more. "Markus?"

"Connor?"

"I love you."

"Yeah, I kind of figured," Markus started to say, but Connor poked him in the ribs, making him grin. "Okay, okay. Sincerely, I love you too."

"Mm, good."

"Really?"

Connor snorted, curling his hand over Markus' thigh. "Yes, really. Don't be an asshole, Markus."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I guess love's made me kind of a fool."

Connor was laughing now, and Markus closed his eyes, relishing the sound and idly stroking the tips of his fingers back and forth along Connor's forearm. "Hey, I've got an idea."

"What's that?"

"Actually, I have two ideas. One, we go to bed and do _this_ all over again in it because it's _comfortable_ there and two, maybe you keep waking up in my bed and leave your toothbrush in the bathroom and your clothes in the closet and whatever else you bring with you when you move in with me."

Connor moved then, sitting back to look at Markus, surprised. " _When_? Markus, you're getting to be kind of an expert at assuming things, aren't you?"

"Don't deny you want to. We both know I'm all that and then some." Somehow, Markus even managed to say that with a straight face.

Connor tilted his head, one eyebrow lifting as he looked Markus up and down. "Pff, I guess you're alright."

"Ringing endorsement there, thanks," Markus said, thoroughly amused. "So?"

"So," Connor said, pressing his lips lightly against Markus' for a second. "Yes, I'll move in with you."

 

  


 

**AUGUST**

Connor came back out of the building and saw Hank hefting another box from the back seat of the car to hand to Markus. "There, that's about the last of it."

"Thanks for this, Mr Anderson."

"Chrissake, kid, how many times? Call me Hank."

"Sorry." 

Connor stopped beside Markus, not quite sure what to say.

"You got everything you need?" Hank asked again.

"I think so. It's really not far to come if I've forgotten anything though," Connor said, pointedly. "Or to visit."

Hank gave him a soft smile, nodding. "I expect to see you both once a week. Sumo wouldn't be happy if he didn't see you at least that often."

Connor tutted, wrapping his arms around Hank's broad shoulders. "Don't worry, dad. We won't let Sumo down, I promise. I love you. Are you-"

"I swear to God, if you ask me that one more time! I will be _fine_ , Connor. Rose won't let me be any other way, so quit worrying."

"Who's Rose?" Markus asked, sounding amused by the exchange.

"Dad's new girlfriend," Connor said, just to see the look on Hank's face.

"You know what, Connor? You're such an insufferable little shit sometimes," Hank grumbled, before answering Markus. "She's just a nice lady who moved in across the street a few weeks back. Seems to be her job to take care of us old bastards, always bringing casseroles and.." Hank shook his head, trailing off with a shrug. "Whatever, she's _not_ my girlfriend."

"Alright, Dad," Connor agreed, his tone just making Hank glare at him more. "Are you sure you don't have time to come up for a drink?"

"I've gotta get home and see to Sumo before I head to work. Besides, I'm sure you two would rather have the place to yourselves now you're all officially moved in, right Markus?"

Connor knew that his face was betraying every single thought he was having about how to make this particular day memorable, because Markus took one look at him and gave him one of the dirtiest but at the same time most angelic grins he'd ever seen. How did he _do_ that?

"You're welcome any time, Hank," was Markus' diplomatic reply.

 

  


 

Connor was about to hang his print next to the painting that Carl had given him, but Markus stopped him.

"I think we can do better than that," he said.

"What do you-"

"I asked my dad, he told me we can take the original canvas back out of storage. They should be together anyway, right?"

"Really?"

Markus smiled, placing his hands on Connor's hips and stepping in close to kiss his lips. "Really." He moved his mouth to Connor's neck, grazed his teeth against skin just to hear Connor exhale. He looked down as Connor's fingers pulled at his t-shirt, and grinned. "So I think I remember your dad saying something about us christening the place as officially _ours_ ," he said, making Connor laugh, soft.

"Yeah, we should.. go do that," Connor agreed, his knuckles warm and pushing up under Markus' shirt to press at his stomach.

 

  


 

**SEPTEMBER**

Markus folded his arms across his chest and just stared at the flowers that were sitting on the counter.

"They're from Connor," North said again.

"I heard you."

"Trouble in paradise?" Simon asked, busy making a couple of iced teas.

"I don't think that's any of our business, Simon," North told him. "Look, there's a card." She pulled it free of the bouquet and held it out to Markus. "They _are_ pretty nice flowers."

Knowing neither of them would leave him alone otherwise, Markus took the card and picked up the flowers to move them into the back. Josh glanced over at him like he was expecting Markus to throw them in the trash, so obviously he'd heard some of the exchange from the front. He wasn't going to, though. He wasn't angry, he was just.. upset, still.

He and Connor had fought that morning. Their first fight, in fact, which Markus supposed was pretty good going. He'd hated every second of it, hated that it had been about something that was out of his control. 

Connor's father had been in touch again, asking if Connor would just go and see him, just to talk. Markus had made the mistake of saying that maybe Connor should think about it, and the fight had escalated from there until Connor had stormed out of the apartment. It was stupid, was what it was. Markus just wanted Connor to have the chance to get some kind of explanation, and had spent the rest of the day stewing over it all.

He opened the card and read the rather lengthy note inside, his eyes immediately starting to burn.

Connor picked up on the second ring when Markus called him. "Don't," Markus said, right away. "Don't say sorry to me for this, _I'm_ the one who needs to apologize. I'd always imagined the worst, but I didn't dream it was that bad, Connor. I understand why you don't.." Markus cleared his throat, hearing Connor hiccup through his own tears. "He shouldn't be allowed to contact you, not through Hank, not through anyone, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again. I love you, Connor, I won't _allow_ you to be hurt by him. Not any more."

"Are you done?" Connor asked, his voice quiet and somewhat broken.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Connor, okay? Everything I said, I was just.. I guess I believe there's always a chance for reconciliation, it's just in my nature. But you're right, you were right this morning. There's no way he can undo what he did to you-"

"I _don't_ want to talk about that. Markus, please. Not about that, never again. He's had enough from me, I'm not going to waste any more breath on him."

"Okay," Markus said, wishing he'd just gone over to the gallery instead of calling Connor. He really needed his boyfriend in his arms right now. "Can you-"

"I'm taking an early lunch. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Relieved, Markus nodded. "I'll see you then."

 

  


 

"Wow, I wasn't sure you two were ever going to stop making out like horny teenagers," North said, utterly deadpan. "Lunch rush is about to start, Markus, we need you out front."

"Right.. Sorry, boss."

North nodded, pausing in the doorway to give them both a little smile. "I'm glad everything's okay with you. You're two of my favourite people on the planet, I hope you know that."

Connor lay his head against Markus' chest and smiled right back at her, though he was still pinned to the worktop behind him by Markus's weight. "Love you too, North."

"I guess I should go and help," Markus murmured, once North was out of sight. "Am I forgiven?"

"You didn't have the whole picture, Markus. There's nothing to forgive."

"I don't know, I said some pretty stupid things."

Connor rolled his eyes, rubbing his nose against the light stubble on Markus' jaw. "I think most of us do when we're scared for someone we love."

"Mm. Very wise, Connor."

"You know it. You chose well, Mr Manfred."

 

  


 

**OCTOBER**

Markus held the brush away again, just shaking his head in despair. "Why are you laughing?"

"I don't know," Connor replied, trying to straighten out his features, though the effort only led to more laughter. "Tickles."

"You're the one who said yes to this suggestion. I told you I'd have to paint all the skin the shirt's not going to cover, so are you going to sit still? Or am I going to have to throw a sheet over you instead like we did to Sumo?"

Connor's face creased again, presumably because now he was thinking about Sumo sitting in Hank's little kitchen, a sheet covering him with eye and earholes cut out of it. Hank had just rolled his eyes when he'd walked in and seen his dog. _Fuck's sake, you two're worse than children sometimes,_ Hank had grumbled.

After a few minutes, Connor seemed to calm down. He sat still, waiting, and Markus _made_ him wait, too.

"Okay?"

"Ready," Connor said. He fell quiet this time when Markus put the brush to his skin again and resumed painting. 

"What?" Markus asked, after a while of Connor just staring up at him while he worked on shading over the bones he'd painted.

"Nothing, I just.. Doesn't matter what you're painting, does it? You get.. you get all intense." Connor was blushing; Markus could see it even under the makeup. "It's hot, that's all."

Markus heard the slight catch in Connor's voice, and though he desperately wanted to kiss him for it, he restrained himself. "Save that for later? I'm not messing up all this work I've just done."

 

  


 

They clambered into the apartment a little after two in the morning, tipsy and - in Markus' case especially - dishevelled. Connor had been handsy in the cab all the way home, pressing wet kisses into Markus' neck that smelt of toffee and vodka. He'd also told Markus more than a few times how nice Chloe - North's girlfriend - was, and that she had wicked beer pong skills, and that they were perfect together, and how he still found it funny that nobody else had been able to tell about Simon and Josh when he'd known all along. He'd then spent the next few minutes laughing about Sumo the ghost-dog, until finally relaxing against Markus and watching the city go by outside the cab's window. 

Now they were home, and Connor was leaning back into Markus' chest, holding Markus' arm tightly around him and looking at their reflection in one of the windows.

"I think you should wear that all the time," Connor murmured, tilting his head. "Sexy pirate." He grinned, shivering when Markus plucked at his belt. "Whatcha gonna do?"

"Fuck you," Markus replied, nuzzling at Connor's nape. "If y'want."

"'m tired," Connor said. "But yes?"

Markus chuckled, unfastening the belt then Connor's fly so he could push his hand inside Connor's jeans. They were stiff with the paint he'd used on them, but they gave him just enough room to flatten his palm along the hard length of Connor's cock. "Mm," Markus groaned. "Feels good."

Connor whimpered, hooking his arm up behind Markus' head because evidently his knees had decided that holding him up was too much effort. "Yeah."

Markus breathed in the smells still lingering on Connor's skin, in his hair, and curled his fingers and thumb to start slowly stroking. This was heaven, he decided. Even in his slightly inebriated state, he _knew._ Decided there and then that he wanted this man in his life, for every last day of it. Decided he was going to marry Connor.

He just had to ask, first.

 

  


 

**NOVEMBER**

"Markus, where the hell are you?"

Markus held the phone away from his ear for a second just to look at the time, and cursed. "Sorry, I.. I stopped in at Jericho and kind of got held up. I'll be home in half an hour, I promise."

"You'd better be. Dinner's going to be cold otherwise."

Markus bit his lip, putting his brushes down carefully. "I'll be there. Love you."

"I love you too. Now please come home."

He hated lying to Connor, _hated_ it, but this lie was for a good reason. He honestly had lost track of time, but he was at Wight's gallery, not Jericho. After speaking with the manager there, he'd secured a room in the gallery that he could work with. He suspected Carl might have had a bit of a hand in it all as well, always supportive of the grand gestures Markus liked to make. This was probably one of his grandest. 

He wasn't sure exactly what they'd told Connor about the room being off-limits to everyone but management, probably something about maintenance work. He did know that he had four weeks to fill the walls, and limited time to do it in. He'd made good progress in the last few days, but there was still a way to go before it was perfect.

 

  


 

**DECEMBER**

Connor really didn't have time for this, and he _really_ didn't want to lose his patience with Markus. Not tonight, not after they'd had such a good day. But he was _working_ , and surely Markus knew that was important?

"It won't take long. Nobody's going to miss us, look. They've all got a glass of champagne in their hands, Kara's being her usual charming self, you can absolutely take five minutes just to come and see something with me."

"But I've _seen_ every piece in this exhibit, I was the one who checked them all into the gallery?"

"This isn't in the exhibit. This way."

"What?" Connor honestly had no idea what the hell Markus was talking about any more. How much champagne had he drunk? His confusion only deepened when they came to a stop outside the room which had been out of bounds for the last month. "Markus, what's going on? If this is some sort of hidden camera prank, can we not?"

"Just go inside and look, Connor. It's nothing bad, okay?"

Connor closed his eyes when Markus gave him a quick, soft kiss, and sighed with a resigned nod. He opened the door, seeing that the overhead spotlights were already switched on, angled towards the..

 _Walls._

"Markus?"

"Go on, Connor."

"What is this?" Connor asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all that he was looking at. He knew without asking whose work this was. It was colourful, somewhere between watercolour and abstract, wistful and hopeful. It felt like he was standing in the middle of a dream; there was Markus holding him tightly outside Jericho, the two of them ferrying boxes from Hank's old car up into the apartment, the first kiss they'd shared in the middle of the festival crowds.

Sitting at a table in Jericho with their friends, holding hands as they watched Sumo play in the autumn leaves.

The impromptu birthday dinner that Markus had 'made', which had mostly been a few takeaway dishes from three of Connor's favourite restaurants, far too many fairy lights strung up around them, and a cheesecake with a candle stuck in it. It had been one of the best birthdays Connor had ever had. He'd fallen asleep in Markus' arms, satisfied and as happy as he could remember being.

He jumped a bit when Markus flicked a switch, the last spotlight coming on to illuminate the fourth wall.

Connor blinked at it, the tears that had been heavy in his eyes already finally falling. "Are you-"

"Completely serious," Markus told him. "All of this," he said, indicating the other three walls. "All of this is why I've fallen in love with you. It's how we got here. I.. want my future with you, too."

Connor nodded, unable to stop himself from laughing nervously when Markus dropped down to one knee.

"Will you marry me, Connor?"

"How did you even do all of this? Markus, it's so.. _Yes_ ," Connor said, cutting himself off. "Of course." He was still sniffling, still astounded by the amount of work Markus had put into all of this. It suddenly explained all the times he'd had errands to run, or gone out two hours early to work to 'help Josh out'. "Of course I'll marry you. I love you."

Was that really relief on Markus' face? Had he honestly considered Connor might answer anything but an emphatic yes? Connor didn't get a chance to ask, because Markus was back on his feet and kissing him, hard.

 

  


 

**JANUARY**

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Markus asked, putting the bags of groceries down in the kitchen. He could just see the top of Connor's head, where he was curled up in their bed. Connor groaned softly in reply, and Markus nodded sympathetically, quickly putting his shopping away. When he was done, he went over to sit on the edge of the bed, and put his hand gently into Connor's hair.

"Feel up to some soup?" He felt Connor nod, and smiled. "Alright. I'm going to go make that."

"You're cold," Connor murmured, turning over a little bit more to crack open one eye and look up at Markus.

"It's snowing again," Markus explained. 

"Snowing?" Connor mumbled, sounding sleepy still. Markus pulled the other blanket across the bed, lifting it over Connor's form. 

"I'll bring you some soup when it's ready, okay? I love you."

Connor made a sound of protest when Markus bent to kiss the top of his head, trying to squirm away. "You'll catch it too," he complained.

"Maybe I just want an excuse to curl up in bed with my fiance," Markus told him, chuckling when Connor stopped wriggling. "You think of that?"

"Hmm. As sexy as drowning in snot with you sounds, who'd make the soup?"

 

  


 

**FEBRUARY**

"Like this?" Markus asked, looking over at Josh's work. Okay, his.. looked nothing like that. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Trying too hard, maybe?" Josh suggested. "We're still going to put that in the oven, because it's made with love and that's really all that's going to count to Connor."

"But the first thing he'll ask me is what it's even supposed to be," Markus said, a little dismayed as Josh loaded his work onto a baking sheet anyway. 

"The first thing he'll ask you is how you're so damned perfect," Josh corrected, grinning. "So, you now know how to make croissants, anything else I can help you out with?"

"Maybe I should just take him out for breakfast.."

"You definitely shouldn't. You're a romantic, Markus. Always have been, always will be. Take your boyfriend-"

" _Fiance,_ " Markus said, because he hadn't gotten tired of saying it yet and didn't think he would any time before they were married.

"Take your _fiance_ breakfast in bed and.. well, I really don't think you need any help with what comes after that, do you?"

 

  


 

_ResonantKarma800 has uploaded a new video - watch now!_

Markus frowned, looking over his shoulder at where Connor was still fast asleep. How had he..? He said Connor's name, twice, but there was no response. Curious, Markus slipped out of bed to go and sit on the couch with his phone and play the video. 

"Hey guys, I know it's been a while." Markus felt a slight pang of guilt at those words, wondering if Connor had stopped making so many videos because of him.

"I just wanted to say.. thank you, to everyone who left their congratulations and wow, so many lovely comments to that last video. I still kind of think I'm dreaming sometimes, to be with this incredible man and he wants to marry me as well? It's so surreal." Connor's self-conscious smile was making Markus' heart ache. He wanted to wake Connor up, to kiss him and tell him _of course I want to marry you_ , and then list a hundred _more_ reasons why.

"So I'm trying to think of something to give him for Valentine's that's as amazing as he is, but in all honesty I don't think there's any one thing that would do it. So I'm just going to.."

The video faded out, then back in, and Connor was sitting on their couch with a guitar across his lap, looking faintly embarrassed. "Hey, Markus. You're probably wondering where I've been hiding this, or how you never knew before that I could play it. Uh, to tell you the truth, I couldn't. North's been giving me lessons, and this.. actually, this is hers. I asked her to keep it a secret for me, I hope you can forgive us?"

Markus found himself smiling, nodding to nobody. _Of course I can._ He'd hidden his cookery lessons with Josh, after all. 

"I'm not.. I know I'm not the greatest with words, but I tried anyway, so I hope you like this?"

 _Wait, what?_ Markus watched, utterly mesmerized as Connor's fingers moved across the strings. _Then_ , he began to sing. It became clear very quickly that the words were Connor's own. Markus listened, hearing the song for exactly what it was - Connor's story of falling in love with him. It sounded almost uncertain at first, the same way Connor had taken some time to find his voice with Markus. Uncertainty gave way to passion though, Connor's voice clear and strong by the final verse. It was perfect, and Markus' heart honestly _ached_ when it was over.

He had to wipe at his eyes, was about to turn and look over at the bed again when a pair of warm arms encircled him and Connor's lips pressed to the back of his neck.

"Happy Valentine's. I love you," Connor whispered, climbing over the back of the couch to slide in behind Markus. 

"Hey, you," Markus said, tipping his head back to get a kiss on his mouth. "I love you, too, you total sneak. That song.. Connor.." Markus was at a loss for the right words to express how he was feeling, just kissed Connor again instead, hot and deep. He wondered if Connor would repeat that performance at their wedding, decided he'd ask later. "You're supposed to be in bed still."

"Am I? Why?"

"Breakfast," Markus told him, twisting around to give a deeper kiss back. He bumped his nose against Connor's cheek, grinning. "I was going to make you croissants. Not as impressive as a whole song-"

"You could bring me a bowl of cheerios and it'd be the greatest Valentine's Day ever." Connor laughed at the indignant noise Markus made, and tightened the wrap of his arms. "Fine. Croissants. Can we just.. do this a bit longer, first?"

"Always."

"Besides, I'm already marrying you, aren't I?"

 

  


 

**MARCH**

"I'm sorry," Markus mumbled, his face still buried in the fleecy cotton of Connor's hoodie. "I wish I hadn't done that."

Connor kissed the top of his head, and Markus swore he could feel a grin there. "Well I'm not, and I'm glad you did."

"Am I going to be in trouble?"

Connor glanced across at his dad, who was still smirking at the both of them. "No. He pushed first, as far as Captain Fowler's concerned it was self defence. I.. I think dad might've embellished a bit."

Just enough to convince Fowler that Markus wasn't the one in the wrong here and that it was all just a stupid misunderstanding. Besides, it had hurt Markus almost as much as it had hurt Gavin, so Hank said 'everything's square now' and that seemed to be that.

"How's your hand?" Connor asked, still holding Markus to his chest.

"Hurts," Markus replied, lifting it gingerly off his lap.

"Shit, son, you sure it ain't broken?" Hank asked.

"Doc said no broken bones. Just bruised." Markus' frown melted when Connor kissed his knuckles, very gently.

"I can't believe you _punched_ him." Connor was still smiling about it, even now. 

"That little asshole had it comin'," Hank told them both, getting up out of his armchair. "Trust me, Markus, if you hadn't done it? Somebody else would've. He's a real mouthy dick with a few beers in him."

Which was what had led to the punch in the first place, wasn't it? Connor had done well in avoiding having any contact with Gavin since that disastrous night what seemed like an age ago. Then, tonight, he was just _there._ Connor hadn't even wanted to go to the party, but his dad said nobody from the Department had seen him for a while and the guys all knew Connor and wanted to congratulate him on his engagement. So, they'd gone. 

Hank was right. Markus hadn't been the only target for Gavin's snide comments. Someone would have decked him, it would only have been a matter of _when._

"I'm still sorry," Markus said. "I never meant to ruin your evening, or anyone else's."

"Son, you ruined nothing." Hank put his hand on Markus' shoulder, squeezed gently. "That was the goddamned highlight of my career. I'm gonna get you some more ice for that hand, sit tight."

"Stop apologizing," Connor said, sensing Markus was about to do it again.

"But it isn't me, Connor. I don't _do_ things like that. Not normally."

"I know. I guess you already know it would never be a fair fight, huh?"

 

  


 

**APRIL**

"I still can't believe your dad's letting us get married here," Connor said, as they looked out at the expansive gardens together. Blossom was drifting lazily from several of the trees, making it easy to imagine what their wedding could look like. 

Markus wasn't sure whether to mention that Carl had insisted it was here because he wasn't up to travelling too far these days. "He wants it to be perfect, he said. Don't worry, I told him we want to keep it relatively small and simple. I've invited our friends, you have Hank and Sumo the flower-dog, don't fight me on that, and I'll have my dad and Leo and his family here."

"Flower-dog," Connor said, dubious.

"He'll be great," Markus assured him.

"It's not Sumo I'm worried about. I'm not sure Dad'll go for decking him out in roses and carnations?"

"What he doesn't get told about in advance won't hurt him." Markus grinned, hearing the doorbell. "Speaking of.. Sounds like our lunch guest's arrived."

They went out just as Paul was greeting Hank at the door, and Markus felt Connor nudge him when it became clear that Hank hadn't come alone. 

"You must be Rose," Markus said warmly, stepping forward to welcome them both in. "Hank's told us literally two things about you, but we can tell-"

"Excuse my future son-in-law," Hank interrupted. "Thinks he's a smart-ass."

"Okay..?" Rose appeared confused, but she entered ahead of Hank, who followed with a look of warning to them both, as if daring them to mention anything about her being his girlfriend. "Connor, it's so nice to see you again," Rose said, pulling him into a hug. "And this is Markus? Well, he's just as handsome as you described him. Hello, Markus. Lovely to meet you at last."

"Likewise. I've heard all about your wonderful cooking from Hank."

She glanced at Hank with those words, smiling at him. "He's always so kind. Oh honey, you didn't tell your son. Did you?"

Hank shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. "He's been busy with wedding stuff, it slipped my mind."

"It's okay, Rose," Connor said. "I haven't seen my dad this happy for a while, and I'm pretty sure I can guess why he is. I.. I think it's great."

" _Thank_ you, Connor. Hank told me you're getting married out in the garden of this beautiful house? A June wedding, it'll be perfect."

"Markus, why are our guests still standing out in the hall?"

Markus turned at the sound of Carl's voice, and gave him a sheepish smile. "We were just getting acquainted with Rose, Hank's.. girlfriend?" 

Rose laughed, and Markus saw the way Hank's features softened at the sound.

"Well, I haven't been a _girl_ for some years, but I suppose it's accurate enough," she said, moving forward to shake Carl's hand. "Very nice to meet you, Mr Manfred." The two of them went on ahead, and Markus could hear Rose saying again what a beautiful house it was, and how lovely a couple his son and Connor were, while Hank seemed to have gone a little red.

"Dad?" 

"Yeah. Coming."

 

  


 

**MAY**

"Don't touch me," Markus said, holding up his hands as Connor came over. "I _stink_ right now."

Connor raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. "What happened?"

"Exploding milk. Don't you dare laugh," Markus added, though he looked on the verge of grinning himself. "I'm going straight in the shower."

"Those clothes are going in the washing machine first. Hand them over."

"You just want to get me naked, don't you?"

"Always," Connor said, giving Markus' shirt a pointed look. "Just give me your clothes. I can wash them, and then I'll wash _you._ "

 

  


 

"I was going to make us some dinner," Connor mumbled, voice muffled where his head was resting on Markus' chest. 

"We'll go out."

"We'll order something in," Connor kissed freckled skin, wrapping his bare leg over Markus' hips. "You're annoyingly good at this."

"What?" Markus asked, genuinely perplexed. "How is this _my_ fault? Again?"

"I don't know." Connor was grinning, Markus could feel it. "You take your clothes off and I lose all sense of inhibition or propriety."

"I think.. we should have sex again. If you're still able to use words like that, I definitely didn't do enough."

 _That_ had Connor laughing, and shifting his weight to sit astride Markus instead. "I'm not going to say no. Even though you _did_ , and you always do."

Markus smiled back, but didn't move right away. His breath had caught in his throat again, as it often did when he looked at Connor like this. "I-"

"You need to paint afterwards," Connor said, understanding immediately. The way he said it made Markus pull him down, in tight, and kiss him hard. 

"I told you, Connor. I'll never get tired of painting you."

 

  


 

**JUNE**

"You okay there, sunshine?" North asked, looking around the edge of the door. "It's almost time."

"I'm.. Yes, I'm fine. Just.. it's finally here? I'm still trying to get my head around how it's been a year already."

North came further into the room then, taking the ends of Markus' bowtie so that she could tie it straight for him. "You're not _really_ nervous, are you?"

"A little," Markus admitted. "Not about marrying him, it's more I've been having this recurring nightmare that I'm going to say my vows all wrong and mess up the whole day."

North laughed. "You'll do fine. Also, newsflash, I think a lot of people stutter up when they're making lifelong promises that they really intend to keep. Maybe just don't overthink it? This is Connor, you know he loves you and you love him. That's basically the only thing that matters today, and every day from here on out."

Markus's frown broke at those words, and he put his hand on North's shoulder. "Hey, you could say them for me?"

"Um, no. Sorry, tough love, you're doing this yourself, just like nature intended. Ready?"

 

  


 

"I liked the part about being your inspiration." Connor was sitting on Markus' lap, arm around his shoulder and his head resting atop Markus'. "Mostly I love listening to your voice."

"Well I'm glad you do, otherwise I'd just be driving you crazy for the rest of our lives."

Connor kissed the top of Markus' head. "You already drive me crazy."

"Mm," Markus laughed. He reached to the table then for another chunk of the incredible wedding cake Josh had gifted them with. He still had no idea how any of his friends had kept it a secret, but it had been a sweet surprise. He took a small bite himself, then offered the rest to Connor. He could see his dad closeby talking with Hank and Rose, who were holding hands and looking happy together. Markus hadn't missed the little looks Hank had kept giving her, and couldn't help but wonder if there would be another Anderson getting married at some point in the near future.

"Tired?" Connor asked.

Markus tightened his grip slightly on Connor's thigh. "A little. Happy, though."

"I mean, technically it's our party and we can leave when we want to. So if you'd like to go to bed, _husband._ "

Markus didn't care that he probably got a little starry-eyed at that word, it had made him giddy every time he'd heard it today. "Soon. Yeah, I think soon. And you are, you know. My inspiration."

Connor grinned. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fandom that I've wanted to write anything for in a few years, and I had fun with this one. It did interrupt an in-universe one I was writing, which I plan to get back to soon. RK1K are just giving me all of the ideas, I love this ship. So much. :)
> 
> I've tinkered and edited and re-read it a hundred times, and it's been read through by someone else as well, so hopefully there aren't many glaring errors. I know I miss things even on the hundredth time. ;) (eta: case in point, I just found a bad one in ch.3. Fixed now, lol.)
> 
> Kudos are appreciated! Comments are treasured. <3
> 
> **I'm almost always the last to the party when it comes to fandoms, but it's nice to be here (at last). Thanks for the comments and <3 so far! It honestly means a lot.**


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